Have you ever wanted to speak to history - just to know the why of it? I don't. Not any longer. There's old stories about gods and men, past history, into myth - where the gods, they're like children... petulant, cruel. Those were the voices of Helios One, the past. Couldn't leave well enough alone, had to ask. Had to ask the why of it. His answers were madness. And power, stronger than me, would take a hundred Ignacios... someone smarter than him or I to best him in that tower. He didn't know why he was there, what had led to that point, his name, - a stage name, a fanciful lie that consumed the truth. When all seemed lost, thought it was the end - my anger gave me strength to ask him my last question.

"Do you have a degree in theoretical physics?"

And he was lucid. For... a short time. He did, he said. A theoretical degree in physics.

He told me what it was like to be a scientist... his plans to end night and make a perpetual day. He didn't know if it could be done, yet he said he knew as much about power plants as anyone he had ever met.

I listened. I asked. Was there anything left to do? Any way to restore the solar power grid?

He told me the solution laid right above us. Told me what lies at the top of the control tower. And the code to access it - and where to send the power.