Severance has not shied away from delving into the troubling cross-sections of identity, memory, and autonomy. The second season continues further into the abyss, presenting the audience with an endless barrage of reflection disguised as either a tedious office routine or zealous hydraulic farce.
However, one line stands out, which is repeated, and that is at the end of episode five, “Trojan Horse.” That line, the more you reflect on it, the more it strikes you—and it could be the most heart-wrenching line in the series to date.
“He’s not dead, he’s just not here”: The line that splits reality in two

In this highly charged episode, Mark S. seems almost cold when his Macrodata Refinement team improvises a memorial service for Irving B., who ‘passed away’ in the eyes of Lumon. Mark's seemingly indifferent attitude is described as, “He’s not dead, he’s just not here.”
On the surface, this observation might strike one as somewhat optimistic or straightforward. After all, Irving’s physical form remains outside of Lumon. His Outie is alive.
But Mark's tone reveals a greater truth: an acceptance that lives where their Innie selves reside are sacrificed. Dismissive as Mark is, his stance is more marked by disappointment than indifference. Outwardly, it seems like a resignation battle, an illustration of the fatalistic reality where no one has time to cherish the Innies' grief, memories, or even their existence—existence.
The line repeats—and its meaning morphs

Outie Mark shares with us the same line while discussing his wife, whom he thinks is dead. He says, “She’s not dead, she’s just not here.” Now that line has a delicate sliver of optimism.
It’s a hint of faith that maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of her that is still alive and reachable. And as the audience is aware, that hope is not unfounded—Gemma is, indeed, alive within Lumon as Ms. Casey, her psyche shattered by the severance procedure.
The figurative “she’s not here” allows for the bridging of the chasm in conjunction with Mark’s two selves. It proposes in a gentle manner that the emotional Innie experiences do, in some ways, permeate through, even without full integration. But beyond that, it highlights how the same words can simultaneously amplify both an elegy and a prayer depending on the narrator's intent.
A painful mirror between innies and outies

What is particularly savage about this mirrored line is how it depicts the disparity concerning the valuation of Innie and Outie lives. Also, Gemma still has value as Innie’s sister and fights for her, even if she’s been living in a kind of stasis – an erased identity.
The monologue phrase ‘He’s not dead, he’s just not here’ makes us confront the sad reality that in Lumin’s world, they have access to the body but without autonomy and peripheral summation. Stripped to the core, what does it mean to be alive when your existence is an office with no view, control, continuity, or bounding windows?
The line that reflects the show’s darkest question

Even after watching the show, one would ask: What constitutes identity? In memory? In freedom? In the connections we share? The show’s brutal comparison of both Irving and Gemma—“not here” in different ways, one through corporate dismissal, the other through mental fragmentation—is made by Mark’s repeated lines.
As regards the absence of emotional impact, Gemma and Irving are treated differently depending on whose life is in question. That is what makes the line so devastating. The character's loss is not the only aspect that is thought of. We are also, as viewers, forced to examine what it is to be whole and to be here.