. . . Texas . .

. . . August 3rd. . . 2:49 PM. . .

I had arranged a meeting with the smoking man. Guilt was heavy on my shoulders. I knew his phone number due to hacking into the computers of the Syndicate a top secret shadow government preparing Earth for the invasion of the Vlectorians. History will play out the way it has to. . . no matter what I do to save the people around me. My greatest flaw: caring.

It was in abandoned warehouse.

I entered the building with heavy shoulders and a slow pace.

The smoking man had a cigarette inbetween his two fingers.

Drip-drop went a water leak.

"What was this meeting for, Qreg?"

"Mr Spender. . ." I said, drawing his attention back. "Yes, I remember you, I heard his question."

The smoking man glared at me.

"What is on your mind?"

"Mulder is dead," I said. "He died in 2110."

The man did not appear to be believe me.

"He just got back from his vacation." The smoking man said.

I step forward.

"I want you to meet Mulder and see if he has that determined look in his eyes to find his sister," I said. "If not. Your son is dead." I saw that look in his eye. "It is painfully obvious. I saw you with his mother back in the day in the months leading to his birth. He has your eyes. Your determination. I cannot believe it has gone unnoticed."

The smoking man laughed.

"If he were my son, why would I be so interested in him?" The smoking man asked.

"Because he's better than Jeffrey,and you sculpted him," I said. "You and your friend Bill . . . Oh poor BIll . . Lost his only child to the Walk-Ins. She is dead. A spirit. Star light." My hands had balled up into fists. "I will tell him the truth. I will bring him to the April Air Force Base. He wants the truth . . . If this machine. . . Wants what he wants . . . Then he will get closure. If he has Mulder's memories. His memory engrams. He will think he is Mulder but he is not."

"Then who is he?" The smoking man asked.

"To the world, he is Fox Mulder," I said. "To me, he is just T-805 sent to terminate me. He will terminate me this year." I looked over to the puddle of water. "Then everything I have been through will be put to rest."

I heard the sound of a cigarette land on the ground.

"You can't just die." The smoking man said, baffled.

I looked over toward the old man.

"I can," I said. "Some-one else will continue my mission. . . Just not me."

"But you have a future!" The smoking man said, in disbelief.

"I lied," I said, turning around. "All of it was a lie. The lies you heard from your friend were nothing but lies. All the lies you heard . . . about my future. . . were fake." I walked away heading to the exit. "Now, I will leave you to Bill Mulder informing his son is dead."