[While Kit retrieved the blade immediately from Vincent, he did not return it to his inside jacket pocket. Instead, holding it in the palm of his hand, he concentrated upon its weight, felt even through the fabric that concealed the minor burn he'd received when he'd thrown his hand down into the ashes. That weight was proof of its existence. Even if he were blind, he would know that it was real because he could feel its effect upon him. The coolness of the handle as his fingers curled around it, the shape preventing his fist from closing all the way, a smooth surface that would be traitorous to anyone unfamiliar with its handling...]

You know, there are some who say the same thing about gravity.

[That it didn't exist and wasn't real. And yet, without gravity, Kit's little stunt in the stairwell wouldn't have been so alarming, and their earlier tumble down that same flight of stairs wouldn't have hurt nearly as bad as it had. Simply being able to see something did not confirm its existence. Sight alone never could.]

He isn't something your subconscious conjured out of thin air. He is a force of nature within you unwilling to be silenced.