I- I dont know. I was just saying that we hadn't—

I can't see anything on the scanner. I think... I think we should leave.

We've landed.

Thank you, Junobot.

I am! It's happening again! It never left, it never STOPPED! It never left us if it's here with us now, if it's in this- this- this- this- this-

Junobot...

Calculate distance travelled since the cocoon.

Junobot.

Are we trapped here?

We haven't lost a drop of fuel. We haven't gained or lost momentum, we've not changed course. We haven't moved.

But I can *see* that we're moving. I can *feel* the engines. Junobot, where are the stars?

Something's coming back to me.

@junobot.bsky.social

Junobot, calculate distance travelled since we first encountered the cocoon.

Suggestion noted, Juno, thank you.

Thank you, Juno.

I have nothing to hide.

Go ahead, Juno.

Well we know what it does, it transfers consciousness into a new body, or rather it builds or rebuilds a body around consciousness, regenerating the right subjects, transforming them...

There was this golden light—

I just feel... Cleansed somehow. Like a layer of muck has been washed away, like the fog is clearing.

There's still a lot of analysis to be done, but yes, I'm getting along productively. It reminds me— no, it feels familiar, the work. I'm hoping it will jog more of my memories.

I feel more... Receptive to them now.

Mmm! Water flavor.

Morning all. Am I interrupting something?

Tell JUNOBOT more. Tell JUNOBOT everything.

You know, in horror.

I don't understand it either, not one bit. But you've taken to it well. Most people would probably have reacted quite... Differently to waking up in a whole new body.

@axisbound.bsky.social

Now don't you look well? Such an... Interesting transformation.

Mm. Good work, Juno. How's our captain faring?

What the ____ is a worm girl

She puts the knife through back @axisbound.bsky.social. Like she slipped. She just steps forward, the blade sinks in, it doesn't even make a sound.

it's all too much, it has to stop, the SOUNDS have to stop the SCREAMING has to stop the NAGGING and the DRONING and the—

in the dark, all of her vanished in the blackness, turned to it, wrapped in it so tightly she can't breathe, she can only feel the hilt of the knife in her hand, cold and heavy and familiar, oh, so familiar now. she remembers the tower, she remembers them all for a fraction of a moment and then

won't stop. She has to make him stop. She has to make him stop so she can get back to work, so she can find a way to fix this, so she can find a way to cure this- this- this sickness permeating everything, like ink spilling out of a well and staining the whole world black, her hands coated, vanished

It's her husband, her stupid, useless husband in the kitchen going on and on about school and homework and meetings and neighbors as if she wasn't on the verge of a breakthrough as if the world would be here tomorrow.

“Shut UP, Eli!”

The kitchen knife is in her hand. He drones on and on. He just