✴

No matter what, you& won’t let yourself& be separated.

sync rate: 55%

sync rate: 52%

You& dismiss the warnings, as headspace breaks down all around you&. You& can no longer feel the distant mycelial corridors. The shadow that overtook your& headmate is gone, and only cold numbness remains in its wake. You& try to feel down the path he was last felt--nothing. I&’ve lost the chance to pursue...

sync rate: 50%

WARNING: sync rate low!

WARNING: return to surface!

WARNING: return to surface!

No!

MEDICAL OVERRIDE INITIATED

🌘

Light! It burns your eyes--you cover them. Then you remember to breathe--breath is life. And when you dare to look again, with the colony spinning around you, you feel the G force pulling you down. Something is terribly wrong.

“Aydan!” Words slowly drift into focus. “Aydan, are you with us?”

You look up above your head. It’s Counselor Xi--you feel her poking around in your terminal remotely.

“I’m?” you say, trying to find a language.

“Good,” she says. “Diagnostics are reading stable...”

You lose focus on her words as you turn your head and see you--or her who was you? “Akiko!” you sign her name sign just as the LEDs in her eyes turn on. You try to sit up, but lose your balance and fall from the couch. In a moment she is down on your level. Drawn to her like a missing part of yourself, you crawl a step closer and embrace each other. You stay here in her arms for an uncountable time as your sense of time reforms itself. The textures of the floor and the fabric of her uniform feel unreal.

You see the pink glow of her eyes turn to pale blue as she looks up. You follow her gaze. Counselor Xi sits down on your level and signs, “You really had a close call there. Your sync was collapsing, I had to pull you out quickly. As a result, you’re experience intense separation anxiety. It should pass. Don’t strain yourselves trying to suppress it.”

Even held tight against her, you feel as far apart as the Moon and Earth.

“Take some time to recompose yourselves, that was a rough separation and reassociation,” Xi signs. “Here...” She helps you both stand and sit back on one of the couches, together, both tightly clasping the other’s hand. She offers you a cup--water--you drink it--water is life, you remember.

Xi sits down on the couch across from you. “What is your name?” she signs.

You start to sign Akiko’s name, but stop yourself, and sign, “Aydan.”

“Akiko,” she signs.

“Good. Where are you?”

“Translunar Academy,” Akiko signs with her free hand, spelling “TLA” while tracing an orbital circle. You sign “yes” in agreement.

Akiko signs, “What happened?”

“You tell me,” Xi signs. “Everything was looking nominal until a minute ago.”

“I...” you try to remember. The events of the ætherwalk are blurry, half-missing. But you can generally put the story together, up until the end. “Can you?” you sign to Akiko.

“Can’t...” she signs. “I mostly remember, until the end...”

“Let’s go over what you remember,” Xi signs.