“It’s not a knife. It’s just an arrangement of atoms, electrons, quanta, whatever you want to call it. It’s just a knife because your brain is telling you it’s a knife, because in this order, it is one. Other people see a knife and it’s just that, a knife, because that’s reality for them. But you.” Nico gave him a look so scalding Tristan nearly felt it. “You don’t have to see it the way anyone else sees it. You could take this—” He held up what remained of the handle. “You could make this a fucking pony. An ice cream cone. An atomic bomb. You can see time, you can use it,
