Vince blinked.
All of a sudden, the temple was gone.
Instead of an ancient inner sanctum, he was now standing in the middle of a modest living room that smelled faintly of buttered popcorn.
In front of him was a cozy red couch.
And on that familiar couch, Vince Cleverly saw his eight-year-old self curled up between his parents and twin siblings — one brother and one sister, both four years younger than him.
A projector whirred softly overhead, playing a recent comedy hit by the actor their whole family adored on the screen before them.
His little brother leaned against their father's side, giggling through a mouthful of popcorn.
His sister clutched her stuffed rabbit tight — its ears so worn they looked ready to fall off, yet she refused to buy a new one.
The younger Vince kicked his legs restlessly against the couch, trying too hard to look more grown-up than he was.
