We’d just arrived at the Echelon star-cluster, about seven-lightyears from the nearest habitable planet. Rations had run-thin, and our ability to reason was hanging-on by a singular frayed-thread. No-way we would make it to our destination alive, not without entering the ships equalization-carriage, and that meant climbing into its capsules and possibly drowning in temporal-suspension-fluid. I should’ve known better than to rely on Dream’s shoddy navigational-system.

              She’d plotted a course which had taken us directly through an unmapped celestial-void. Her instruments should’ve recognized the anomaly before the crew and I ever entered equalization. Unfortunately for half of us, they hadn’t. Out of the seven onboard, three had vanished, and the other three were trapped in what appeared to be an eternal-slumber. But that’s not at all what they’re going through, the fluid in those capsules makes it to feel as though one is dying in slow-motion. The capsules dilate time. Unable to create an oxygen-rich suspension from which to draw breath, one was created that preserves what seems to be a singular-instant to the outside-world, and eternity to the one inside. I didn’t envy them.

              The void we’d entered had somehow corrupted Dream’s automated-responses. She’d been programmed to halt speeds, and flush-capsules of all personnel in the event of emergency. For reasons unknown, she not only failed to perform that directive, but had also jettisoned half of my friends… crew, in the process.

              The ships physician, Maintenance-engineer, and communications-officer were now somewhere gathering frost in the icy-vacuum of deep-space.

              An investigation of system malfunctions proved pointless. I remained ignorant as to what had gone wrong. I could see that Dream’s contamination protocols had been initiated, but without Righty, our technical-engineer to translate, I may as well have been looking at hieroglyphs. In addition, the radio-relay was busted which meant that without Gossip, the communications-officer, there was no-way of sending out an SOS.  

              I was now adrift in and endless-sea of black, with no one but Dream to keep me company. For an artificial intelligence, she’s annoyingly optimistic. Perhaps I’d made a mistake by upgrading her personality-matrix.

              “We’ll be out of here in no-time,” she’s been saying that for the past twelve-hours. I’ve thought about telling her to shut-up, but I refuse to be roused by an automaton.

              Before becoming summarily stranded in this lightless lagoon of despair, me and my crew were headed to the fabled Paradise Quadrant. It was the smallest, yet wealthiest sector in the known universe, or so we’d been told. No one we knew had ever been there, let-alone seen it before.                Until recently, it was believed that all records of its existence had been destroyed. For the past two-thousand years seeking-out Paradise had been expressly forbidden; an offense punishable by death. The Sovereign Veil commissioned what they called the Social Interests Network; or S.I.N, with enforcing this totalitarian directive. They couldn’t risk anyone discovering the location of the source-engine. If it still existed, it was the only thing capable of producing source in its pure form.

              Source, if you were wondering, is the building-block for all resources. Capable of altering mass at an atomic-level, it serves as both catalyst and atomic-mass to be reallocated. Entirely capable of re-stabilizing our miserable existence. With enough, it could be used to heal our dying solar-system. In the right hands It could be used to produce medicine, food, fuel, and housing. In theory, it could even bring the dead back to life. And, for over two-millennia, The Veil has had a strangle-hold on its distribution.

              Every year the galaxies starved as The Sovereign Veil dined in decadence, hoarding source for themselves. I wasn’t supposed to know this, but they’d been selling the people a quasi-functional synthetic-knockoff to keep the wheels of oppression rolling. Calculations showed that only six-percent of each pearl was the genuine-article. Had Dream not taken it upon herself to run a comprehensive composite-analysis on the substance, that information would’ve remained their dirty-little-secret.

              A few-years back I had the ships engineers, Ratchet and Righty, do a complete overhaul on Dream’s energy-distributors. It took some tinkering, but after a whole-lot of trial and error, she was now powered entirely by source-pearls. As a result, every one of her operations had become more efficient. She ran faster, quieter, smoother. And oddly enough, her computing ability increased exponentially.

              Within hours, Dream had re-written her own code with the express purpose of augmenting her protocols. One such protocol saw her rejecting approximately ninety-four-percent of her new fuel, citing the waste as, -unstable materials-. As I attempted to authorize a manual-override, Dream then asked if I was purposefully attempting to compromise her integrity.     

              Her analysis of the pearls revealed the abundance of a substance known as Genesis-3; a naturally occurring source derivative found only on Eden Prime. It contained many of its progenitor’s most appealing properties. In fact, the chemical composition was so similar that it would be impossible to distinguish one from the other without the use of highly-sophisticated refractometer.

              Though it was never proven, scientists even theorized that through its routine ingestion the species could evolve. Testing did however prove that Genesis-3 was highly-addictive, and that it reduced neural-activity in the brain’s frontal-cortex. As a result, test subjects became increasing compliant, so long as the received their daily dosage.

              Fortunately for me and my crew, our food replicator was also managed by Dream’s software. Meaning, no one on this vessel would be reduced to a mindless worker-bee. On the other hand, we would all soon be facing either starvation or a slow frigid demise due to a lack of oxygen and warmth.

              Before we knew it, we had blown through our cache of pearls. Everyone was on edge, myself included. Remedy, our physician, suggested that we utilize the leftover Genesis-3. It would’ve been a simple solution; a near effortless transfusion into our gardens topsoil. But the risk wouldn’t have been worth the reward. With the fear of death looming, it wasn’t easy to convince the others to exercise restraint. Alternating rations must have been a tough pill to swallow. If Cadence, my first-officer, hadn’t been by my side to keep everyone in-line, I don’t think I could have pulled it off.       

               After seven weeks of leap-frogging meals, the groups vigor had depleted. Every hour, a cruel test of my resolve. I was seeing aberrations. I’d begun to imagine that I was swimming through the glimmering gold & purple gas & stardust of the Osiris Nebula. My navigations-officer, Faith (I hope that she wakes up), found me sleepwalking in the airlock. According to her, she stopped me from erroneously initiating a purge of the ships remaining oxygen-supply.

              As if that wasn’t already unsettling, Faith then informed me that we’d wandered dangerously off-course. Dream had taken it upon herself to drastically alter our trajectory without authorization. We were now headed directly into the mouth of the beast; a galactic outpost often referred to as New Vatican. The Sovereign Veil’s revered base of operations.

              It turned out that source had an extremely unique energy-signature, and with Dream’s newly improved quantitative capabilities, she was able to locate more.

              We thought we knew what we were in for.

              Immediately, I had Dream sound the alarm. Ratchet and Remedy were the first to their stations. The way in which they sprang into action was impressive. As soon as I told them where we were going, a tinge of excitement tugged their cheeks upwards. It appeared as though I was the only one experiencing a lapse in testicular-fortitude. That is, until Gossip arrived on the bridge with Righty and Cadence, trembling like a leaf in the breeze. He couldn’t contain his doubts. Panicking he wailed, “were all gonna die! This psychotic ship is gonna be the end of us all!”

              It didn’t take long for Remedy to set him straight. An intimate whisper and a gentle smack to the side of the face was sufficient for the time being. Although he continued to huff like a child, Gossip was back onboard. And it’s a good thing that he was, we needed him to jump on the comms and find someone who could expedite a forged shipping-manifest.

              As New Vatican appeared in the distance, we were cutting it close, and in desperate need of a miracle. There were more S.I.N purifiers in the area than I could count. At first, the heavily-armed legion of enforcers looked like flecks of silver sprinkled atop an oily backdrop. That beauty then quickly became dread as we drew nearer.

              Naturally, the crew and I began to soil our garments. Again, my courage was experiencing a morbid interlude. In my head, I swore that I could hear the subtle whirring of anion-canons winding into alignment. I just knew that if Gossip couldn’t secure those forged-documents, we were dead in the proverbial-water. At any rate, our only chance for survival lied ahead. Slowly, we maintained our approach. There was no alternative; Dream was running on fumes.

              Every second that passed felt longer than the last. Time had become gluttonous, ravenously gnawing away at my sanity. My ears were so occupied listening to what my eyes were seeing that I couldn’t even hear Faith urging me to look at the radar. It was only as Dream reversed her thrusters that I was yanked back to reality.

              Worried, I yawped, berating Dream for her insubordination. The hasty maneuver was bound to garner unwanted attention. The kind of attention that would no-doubt warrant further investigation from the patrolling purifiers. Forged-documents or not, we were doomed. One look at Dream’s modifications and they’d have everyone on this vessel cleansed. In other words, all evidence of our existence would be erased. Being in possession of a technology that could locate source, would make us an intolerable threat to their dominion.

              “Turn the ship around!” I screamed, determined to delay the inevitable.

              When suddenly, on our starboard-side, a battalion of One Life intercepters uncloaked, unleashing a volley of gravity-grenades. The ensuing chain-reaction of implosions pulled every S.I.N vessel within radius into an artificially generated magnetic-field. Chaotically, purifiers began spiraling, one after another into each other.

              Staggering their assault, an additional battalion of One Life penetrators then uncloaked on our port-side, unloading a barrage of decimator-shells. The heavy-artillery otherwise known as comet-crackers, did precisely what their name would suggest. And then, due to the gravity-grenades, they did it again.

              Without warning, Dream’s thrusters sent us barreling forward, headlong into a vortex of disarray. The centuries long conflict between the SV and the OL had finally reached a tipping-point, and somehow, we were now cascading into its epicenter.

              A shout from Ratchet, “wooo!” rang to the tune of idiocy. Either he was daft, nervous, or he found the catastrophic loss of life exhilarating. We were now weaving through shrapnel and human-viscera, nausea would have been the correct response. My stomach churned as I gazed upon devastation. Had I eaten anything prior, vomit would have replaced my dry-heaves.

              The ambush, although effective, had left behind a vast purifier contingent. As they fell into pyramid-esque battle-formations, I could see their weapons preparing to fire. The rapid charging of that many anion-cannons made it look as though space was folding in on itself. Their discharge then lit the sky fuchsia.

              Had they fired indiscriminately, we would’ve been vaporized. Thank God their hands were too full to be concerned with what they likely saw as merchant rabble in the wrong-place at the wrong-time.

              Miraculously, we breezed through their net without so much as a scratch, and began our descent into New Vatican. Temples made of Centauri-marble and expansive crystalline-towers made for a grotesque display of opulence. Every aspect of the architecture had been masterfully crafted; impossibly constructed. Never before had I been so close to such niceties. But, however gorgeous it looked from the outside, we would soon find that it’s foundation was faulty, and that all who lived within it’s glamorous walls had gone rotten.   

              As we approached the surface there were two paths which lied before us, and, Dream’s instruments were picking-up an abundance of source at the end of either. More ground could be covered if we split into groups, so that’s what we did. Ratchet, Remedy, and Cadence took the exploration-pod to an underground bunker on the outskirts of the capital. The rest of us were simply along for the ride as Dream carried us to a radiant fluid-like sphere located in the city’s center. The floating sphere was the image of whimsy. But as light shone from its core painting the city beneath it brilliant, I could see it for what it was; an optical-illusion.

              As a child I’d seen something similar. I believe my parents called it luminescent-refraction. By placing a projector inside of a magnetized liquid-hologram, lifelike imagery could be superimposed onto a surrounding area. Because of this, I’ll forever have the vivid memory of walking on water.

              I then suddenly began to question my own eyes; behind all of this false-light, how did New Vatican actually look? Another question then came to mind; where were all of it’s people? So far, I hadn’t seen anyone. And, with a war being waged above our heads, there should’ve been someone. Clearly, this desolate mirage wasn’t the utopia that I’d been made to believe it was.

              As Dream then arrived directly below the sphere, her thrusters decelerated. Somehow, we’d sputtered to a complete-stop but were still hovering, motionless. Just as I thought our journey had come to a close, that grace had washed her hands of us, the ground opened-up and inhaled us like a gasp.

              Cleaving to one another, Faith and I crumbled to our knees. And, in that instant, we stopped plummeting. If The Sovereign Veil was truly the mouth of the beast, then we were now in it’s belly. After opening Dream’s hatch, the truth became visible; New Vatican wasn’t a kingdom, it was a prison with a research facility.

               The crooked regime had delved deep into depravity, experimenting on its captives. In doing so, they’d found a way to extract source from living-subjects. Husks of men lined the halls as others huddled together in their cells, terrified that that they would be next. In one fell-swoop, twenty-men then shriveled in front of me. Watching, I gaped as their life-force lifted into the ceiling. Their souls, like waves of white-light, pulsed overhead through translucent-cables illuminating an otherwise ominous corridor. As Faith and Gossip stayed with the ship, Righty and I went to investigate.

              The further in we traversed, the warmer and damper it became. In anticipation of the potential horrors which lied ahead, my goosebumps were sweating. At any moment our position could’ve been compromised. Unwittingly, our presence could’ve triggered a silent-alarm. While overthinking I’d become startled by my own footsteps.

              Once more, a white-light then pulsed through the narrow corridor before vanishing behind a lead-curtain. Having no-regard or fear of what awaited us, Righty swung the curtain to the side. 

              My fists raised, I rushed through the opening. Maybe it was courage, then again, maybe all of the tension caused me to snap. Come to think of it, my eye’s were closed. As I then timidly began to open one-eye and peak from behind my fists, Righty hollered-out, “we’re rich!”

                                  Technicolored rays danced atop a massive vat filled with what looked to be melted-diamonds. Hues of pink, purple, and blue, beamed through its glass. It was like gazing into the heavens from a planet with two suns; like watching the sun rise and set simultaneously. Never before had I seen source, and I knew that now. What I couldn’t figure-out is why so many had to die for The Veil to collect it, if they truly had access to Paradise.

                While I snooped around to find out, Righty gleefully scuttled back to the ship with a drum full. There was a strange phrase written above what appeared to be a concealed passage, reading, -Seek and ye shall find-. As I looked closer, I could see that the word -Seek-, had peculiar sheen along its edges. A segment of wall then slid open as I ran my fingers along the slightly textured lettering. Quickly, the wall then slid closed after passing through its threshold.

                 In the center of the room on an ornate golden-stand, there rested a book, bound in leather with a single pearl of source inset on its cover. As I then tried to open it, I realized that I was unable to. When again I saw a strange phrase, written on the stand below the book. An engraving which read, -Ask and ye shall receive-.

              Confused by what seemed to be a riddle, I scoffed, “what?”

              To my surprise, a voice then replied, “Anything, you may ask anything.”

              By accident I’d been given total-access to The Sovereign Veil’s data-archives. “Where is Paradise?” I asked, and awaited a response with bated breath.

              “Within,” said the digitized-voice.

              I couldn’t understand, was this program telling me that this vile-place was Paradise? Was it possible that the contraption I’d seen in the other room was the source-engine? Both questions were then answered with a resounding, “No.”

              Again, I asked, “how do I find the Paradise Quadrant!?”

              A vague, “Seek and ye shall find,” is the response I was given.

              Clearly my queries needed to be more poignant. Rationally I Inquired, “what are the source-engines coordinates.”

              As if irritated by my incessancy, the voice moaned, “what you see in the book will guide the way.”

              All I could see is that I was getting nowhere fast. It only made sense that information regarding Paradise would be off-limits without clearance. Assumedly, I thought this a cypher, one of which I couldn’t answer, not without opening the book. 

              I did however continue my interrogation and learn that S.I.N was in fact, The Veil. Shortly after they’d been given authority, they mounted an insurrection overthrowing their predecessors. I suppose the name Sovereign Veil was kept in order to maintain appearances. As for the facility being unmanned; due to the sustained consumption of Genesis-3, S.I.N members developed a source-intolerance. Prolonged exposure was described by those afflicted as, excruciating. Amongst others symptoms included: the hyper-stimulation of nerve-endings, causing the exposed to feel as though their skin were being licked by flames. Left untreated, the presence of source in others became sufficient in bringing about this symptom. Sufficed to say, the dilution of pearls was about far more than money.

              Before I could leave, there was one more question which needed asking; how do I set the prisoners free?

              “They are free,” said the emotionless machine.

              I was baffled by the response until the lifeless-voice finished by saying, “free from their mortal shells.”

              “Open the door!” I yelled. If this machine wouldn’t help them, then I would just have to do it myself.

              The instant the passage began sliding, I could hear Righty screaming while sprinting through the corridor. Dream was up and running again, and Gossip heard chatter over the comms indicating that S.I.N’s battle with One Life had concluded. We needed to leave, immediately.

              As I then went to run, something inside told to me to turn back and grab the mysterious book from its stand. If nothing else, I figured it must’ve been worth a pretty-penny. I snagged it, and then bolted back to the ship on the heels of Righty. As I exited the corridor, my heart fluttered. Not a single prisoner was left alive. Dust, all that remained of them.

              Having made it back to Dream’s helm, shouts from a frazzled Gossip captured my attention. Cadence and the others were in distress. As Dream finally relinquished control, I hastily initiated our ascension to the surface, elevating us up and out of the dismal subterranean laboratory.

              The sky was on fire, and I could tell that our escape-window was about to slam shut. There was no time to waste. As luck would have it, a few moments is all it took to spot the exploration-pod careening towards us at an accelerated pace. A handful of scouts were hot on its tail, so close that the pilots could’ve smelled its trailing exhaust. Had Cadence’s aerial-acrobatics been anything other than superb, I’d currently be staring at an empty dilation-capsule.

              And, had Ratchet and Remedy not taken it upon themselves to steal multiple crates of Genesis_3 from S.I.N’s bunker, we may never have become interplanetary-fugitives. I can’t quite comprehend why Cadence would go along with such an asinine plan. Perhaps the prospect of wealth was too tempting an offer to walk away from.

              After the pod reintegrated with Dream, I saw the pilfered bounty and threatened to have it incinerated. And I would have, had Dream been cooperative. As I would soon find, her humanitarian effort to prevent pollution would again jeopardize our well-being. 

              In our possession was S.I.N’s most profitable commodity, it was only a matter of time before that information made us a target. It took less than a week for us and our ship to appear on the most-wanted registry. In addition to Sovereign Veil citizenship, an absurd three-thousand pearls were offered-up as reward. If anyone thought S.I.N would be true to their word, they were delusional. No way would anyone collect, nevertheless many would try.

              Wheresoever we went, we were hunted. It’s as though our comfort was a beacon for vultures. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how they kept finding us. We needed to become invisible, and the only way that would happen is by camping in a dead-zone.  

              In a relative state of hibernation we idled within an asteroid-belt aptly named Limbo, laying low, growing plump. A year in uninhabited space, the entirety of which was spent binge-eating our sorrows into lethargy, did a number on our not so youthful physiques. Panting, I waddled to the food-replicator contemplating a ninth serving of fried-ice-cream, before finally deciding that I’d had enough. 

              I couldn’t take it any longer.  I had every comfort a man could ask for, however, comfort eluded me. Our supplies could’ve lasted a lifetime, but as I steadily gained heft, I felt shame. Perhaps I’d been blighted by the source I’d wasted, haunted by the souls which sung-bright through Dream’s hull. Remedy and Ratchet too wreaked of irritability, distain seizing control of their brows.

 With no way of knowing how dark the cosmos had become, I reassumed command. It was time to see what had transpired in our absence. 

              I thought that my vision was playing tricks on me. Space itself appeared ill. The stars which were once as vibrant as daisies in full-bloom, were now shy. An ashy-haze discriminately obscured their brilliance. The sky’s spectral-greens had become muddy, and it’s royal-blues now failed to regale. As Dream’s radar began experiencing ghost-pings, I brushed it off. The minor-malfunction could have easily been caused by atmospheric-interference. It wasn’t until glaring at a pixelated distortion pop in-and-out of her aft display, for the third-time that day, that my suspicions were peeked.

              We were being followed, and who knew for how long. After a year in hiding I’d hoped that the price on our heads had been lifted, but I should’ve known better. I also should’ve known that we wouldn’t make it out of this without incident. In fact, we’d be given no opportunity to try.

              A boarding-party of mercenaries stealthily breached our vessel, somehow circumventing Dream’s personnel-sensors as well as her boarding-protocols. Or, so I thought. 

              It was only while attempting to warn the crew of our tail, that I noticed the unwelcome-guests pillaging our source-reserves. Their clothing was ragged and loose, strung atop sunken-silhouettes. Children, most of them were children. And by the look of them, they hadn’t eaten in days. I watched in awe as one dunked his malformed hand into a barrel and pulled back a perfect appendage. Only after their getaway was guaranteed, did I feign outrage.

              With muted-fury I yelled, “stop!” as they absconded with all they could carry. Finding the courage to inform the others that our fortune had suddenly grown legs, didn’t come easy. Righty and Cadence wanted to give-chase. Remedy and Ratchet mirrored their outrage, until realizing that the stash of Genesis_3 went untouched. Gossips eyes anxiously danced in their sockets. Uncharacteristically, he bit his tongue and dallied back to his console. But Faith, her gaze bore into my soul as though she knew what I had done. Graciously, she then gifted me with a nod of approval.

              We were back to square-one. The only differences being that we were now wanted, and the surrounding heavens had undergone a form of systemic decay. As for the planets we passed, pillars of ash billowing from the surface served as proof that civility had eroded. Genesis-3’s diminishing yields set the stage for a pandemic of cosmic proportion. Unaware of The Veil’s deception, many clamored for the very thing that was making them sick.  While my crew and I vacay’d, S.I.N’s greed had predictably backfired. After six-months, a meteoric-fall from grace lead to the collapse of their infrastructure; and within nine, the disavowed addicts they’d abandoned descended upon New Vatican, chewing through its treasury like Rameses-locusts before razing it to the ground. Pandemonium ensued.

 With the removal of the serpents-head, the body now writhed. Merchants became scavengers, and children became thieves. I didn’t know it then, but for a moment, I was one of the richest men alive. Now that title wrongfully belonged to a handful of scraggily adolescents. For all my efforts, all I had to show was an old leather book, one of which I couldn’t even open. I’d tried everything including an inept attempt at telepathy, but nothing worked. Plucking the jewel from its cover was the only logical recourse.

              I figured using it to refuel would at least delay the inevitable. Tepidly, I clasped tomorrow in my hand. Just as I was about to hastily release it into Dream’s core, a barely noticeable inscription on the back became visible. After letting out an exuberant squeal, I scrambled the crew together to tell them that our prayers had been answered. I thought the news would lift everyone’s spirits. Shockingly so, it had the opposite effect.

              We were divided. Ratchet and Remedy seemed doubtful, vehemently arguing that Paradise was too good to be true. Should the mission prove unfruitful a return-trip would be impossible, but I could see no alternative. Faith and Righty sided with me, whereas Gossip and Cadence straddled the fence. A unilateral decision made by Dream then put a swift-end to our division. She was going, whether we liked it or not. I suppose the ensuing countdown was Dream’s way of being courteous. Anyone who wanted off was given an hour to evacuate on the exploration-pod. But, where would they go?

              A gust of malaise swept the vigor from bones, reducing mutinous growls into cowardly groans. Thus, turning enmity into unison; all but Faith echoing in harmonious uncertainty. Each to his own, grumbling, we prepared to embark. As Ratchet tinkered in the med-bay, Righty battened the hatches. While Gossip fidgeted with the comms, Faith looked over the star-charts. When they finished, Cadence glossed over their collective reports. And Remedy, fixed herself a fifth-cocktail.

               I grasped at seconds, and as they evaporated was forced to embrace mortality. As I then let go, an heir of peace breathed in me life afresh. Somehow, I knew that this tomorrow would be mine, even in the midst of entropy. Though I wasn’t too keen on entering equalization, the prospect of exiting a warp-cycle with my organs on the outside, made it a no-brainer. After sliding down into my capsule, I looked up at the others through the glass. While they watched from above as the suspension-fluid rose to my cheeks, I winked, as though everything would be fine. Now I know that by following my lead Ratchet, Remedy, and Gossip had been vomited into deep-space. Knowing that they did it to themselves is of little consolation.            

              What’s worse; becoming interstellar upchuck, or wearing your stomach like a fanny-pack?  I’d ask Dream, but I’m pretty-sure she’s ignoring me for bludgeoning the intercom. 

              Never-mind, she just said, “wearing your stomach like a fanny-pack.” Either she doesn’t understand the concept of a rhetorical-question, or she’s being facetious.

              Before taking my aggression out on an inanimate-speaker, I’d been grieving. The guilt I felt had become noxious and was suffocating my will to live. I trudged to the airlock preparing to join those who’d been lead-astray, when video-footage then began to play over Dream’s monitors. Each on their own respective monitor, I saw Gossip, Remedy, and Ratchet.

              Gossip, the treasonous weasel that he was, betrayed us the moment that life became difficult. Upon entering New Vatican airspace, instead of acquiring a forged manifest, he sent out a distress call informing the S.I.N legion of Dream’s capabilities in exchange for safe-passage. He also asked for his weight in pearls. After New Vatican, he repeatedly leaked our location, hoping to collect on the preposterous reward that had been offered-up for our capture. Our unplanned vacation in the dead-zone must’ve been quite the buzzkill. As we left, he then resumed his treachery unaware of the shift in social-climate.         

As an outcome of his ignorance, we were bamboozled by a platoon of malnourished kindergarteners. Due to the treasure which awaited us, the location of Paradise is the one secret he kept. Before departing, he sabotaged our communications-array to ensure that there’d be no-further splits from our findings.

              To stave off hunger Remedy disobeyed my orders regarding the use of Genesis_3. She incapsulated the substance for discreet consumption. So as not to be alone, she then used her feminine wiles to sway Ratchet into partaking as well. Effectively, the wealth of Genesis_3 they’d stolen suppressed the appearance of their newfound addiction. To avoid suspicion, they’d projected and mimicked emotions; to traverse with impunity, Ratchet disabled Dreams sensors.

              Dazed by intoxicants, Remedy neglected to swap-out an expired batch of suspension-fluid; the same batch in which Faith, Righty, and Cadence are currently submerged. Deeply they rest, in need of a resurrection, due to her dereliction of duty.

              Ratchet, easily seduced, had gotten in over his head. Attempting to hide his transgressions from his wife Cadence, came at a hefty toll. Fearful that Genesis_3 would appear on his toxicity-report, he tinkered with Dream’s biometric-recognition hardware. It was a grave miscalculation of ingenuity; one which saw him, as well as two others, labeled as contaminants and expelled in concordance with Dream’s protocols.

              The truth I saw roused me from my gloom, stoking my ire. Had Dream shown me sooner, perhaps my crews ill-fated pruning could’ve been averted. As Cadence’s vitals then bleeped-flat, I crumbled. In a childish outburst, I wailed, demanding an explanation.

               Foregoing her programming’s metallic-sincerity, Dream commiserated. “Just as I love you, I loved them. Because of this, I never gave-up hope, not even when they did,” those were her exact words. And, for some reason, I believed her.

              Maybe I’m losing my mind. As Dreams lighting fizzles to a glow the darkness slithers closer, forcing me to retract and reflect inward in search of my own luminosity. The love I’ve found is all that keeps me from becoming one with this ever-expanding tarry-blanket of black. I’ve decided that these final moments would be best spent with my remaining family; Faith, and Righteous. Righty... he never did like that nickname.

              Hey Dream! ... divert all remaining power to the equalization-carriage.

              ... Wait, hold on.

              What is that?!...

              I swear I just saw a light shoot-out from the book. 

              There it goes again...

              ... Woah! Is this real?

              The book just opened by itself. Like blossoms the pages have spread, giving-way to letters which flutter into the heavens, igniting them like fireflies. They shoo the darkness, and it retreats.

              ...Faith?!

              ...Righteous?!!

              We found paradise!!!

End of recording

              MoonMan: signed out.

 

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