13بخش

All right?

This is your world? It was.

And this is where she’ll be.

Come on.

Saito. Saito.

I need you to take care of Fischer while I go set some charges, okay?

No room for tourists on these jobs.

Don’t be silly.

You built all this? This is incredible.

We built for years.

Then we started in on the memories.

This way.

This was our neighborhood.

Places from our past.

That was our first apartment.

Then we moved to that building right there.

After Mal became pregnant, that became our home.

You reconstructed all of this from memory?

Like I told you, we had lots of time.

What is that?

That’s the house Mal grew up in.

Well, will she be in there? No.

Come on.

We both wanted to live in a house, but we loved this type of building.

In the real world, we’d have to choose, but not here.

How are we gonna bring Fischer back?

We’re gonna have to come up with some kind of a kick.

What?

I’m gonna improvise.

Listen, there’s something you should know about me. About inception.

An idea is like a virus. Resilient.

Highly contagious.

And the smallest seed of an idea can grow.

It can grow to define…

…or destroy you.

The smallest idea, such as:

“Your world is not real.”

Simple little thought that changes everything.

So certain of your world. Of what’s real.

Do you think he is?

Or do you think he’s as lost as I was?

I know what’s real, Mal.

No creeping doubts?

Not feeling persecuted, Dom?

Chased around the globe by anonymous corporations and police forces…

…the way the projections persecute the dreamer?

Admit it.

You don’t believe in one reality anymore.

So choose.

Choose to be here. Choose me.

You know what I have to do.

I have to get back to our children because you left them.

Because you left us.

You’re wrong. I’m not wrong.

You’re confused.

Our children are here.

And you’d like to see their faces again, wouldn’t you?

Yes, but I’m gonna see them up above, Mal.

Up above?

Listen to yourself. These are our children.

Watch.

James? Phillipa?

Don’t do this, Mal. Please. Those aren’t my children.

You keep telling yourself that, but you don’t believe it.

No, I know it. What if you’re wrong?

What if I’m what’s real?

You keep telling yourself what you know.

But what do you believe?

What do you feel?

Guilt.

I feel guilt, Mal.

And no matter what I do, no matter how hopeless I am…

…no matter how confused, that guilt is always there…

…reminding me of the truth.

What truth?

That the idea that caused you to question your reality came from me.

You planted the idea in my mind?

What is she talking about?

The reason I knew inception was possible was because I did it to her first.

I did it to my own wife. Why?

We were lost in here.

She had locked something away, something deep inside.

A truth that she had once known, but chose to forget.

And she couldn’t break free.

So I decided to search for it.

I went deep into the recess of her mind and found that secret place.

And I broke in…

…and I planted an idea.

A simple little idea that would change everything.

That her world wasn’t real.