Orbis You been sleeping for a long while Star Child. Ah yes. Your thoughts. We’ve seen your so called humanity. Through your stories. Through your memories. We’ve tapped into unknown sources, but alas we cannot keep your captures of your mind. You will find your accommodations different from the so called Earth you came from. Though that won’t matter soon enough. One of you humans lacks any humanity. One who kills for sport locked here with the rest of them. I wonder what you’ll do with that knowledge. Who will you target first? Who will you target last? It’s so entertaining to consider. It’s like television, but we’re not the ones writing the script. You’re captors of your mind and write your own narrative. Your own fear. Your own desires for survivability. And we are the ultimate deciders of your fate. Can you feel it? Doom upon your soul. Your trapped. Not by us. But yourself. -Technic Tongue Foolish Star Children. You think we took you. You took yourself. We picked you. No ultimately you picked yourself. Wishing for something. Wishing for greater. Humans are always arrogant like that. You come from Earth. Which tells you are special. You are unique. You are an individual. It’s all lies you tell yourself. To make yourself feel better about yourself. You’ll never be as good as your perfect self. Your world tells you, you can achieve. You’ll never be thin enough. You’ll never be beautiful enough. Smart enough. Loving enough. You never will. You will never be able to achieve your ultimate goals. Because in the end you are nothing. Nothing. Nothing to yourself. Nothing to your love ones. You’re not celebrities. A lawyer. You have achieved no successes in your life. Ultimate the reason you are here is because you are worthless. You are nothing. And that is something you will learn foolish Star Child. You will learn your place. Either you’ll eventually die trying. Or escape maddening versions of your new selves, to go back to your world. A better person for it. You’ll still achieve nothing. In the end you’ll still be nothing. But you’ll better for it. Your self image will thank you. Your self worth will thank you. As you rot. Like you’re use to rotting. -Anti-Thought I like the idea Star Child. That ultimately your lives will be my toys. Little puppets on strings. Like a marionette of souls. I will puppet you. I will control you. Because in the end I am the ultimate puppetmaster. I control your thoughts. I control your lives. In my hands you are mine. You have been sleeping for very long. But you are use to a world with a contained God that controls your world. And your world alone. He says you’re special. He controls your lives. Like toys. Like puppets on the strings. I am no different. I am simply no God, nor am I no Devil. I am simply the puppeteer of your souls. That is if such a thing exist. It’s like splitting open an egg for the first time see if there really was an embryo in there. And you Star Children do it all the time to your own kind. And to other animals. Who feel sympathy. Who are sympathetic. Who have children. I am no different than the common laws you are use to. I simply instruct them in a stricter much harsher way. You must live for me. Star Child. -The Restart The rusty ship, clicked, and whirred. There was an awful sound coming from the generator, like that of a broken lawn mower. The ship buzzed, and seemed to be coming alive all on its own. Rusty pipes began to push in and out as steam came out of them with a psssh, sound. There was no sign of life in this ship. Not upon first inspection. Instead the large monitors with computers of old began to turn on with bzzt. Green lettering came crawling up as it began to load it’s programming. A programming as old as the oldest ancient technology. Spoiler (Move your mouse to the spoiler area to reveal the content) Show Spoiler Hide Spoiler [Loading Program Sequence…..Experiments 999….] A sequence of symbols began to scroll upward. None of which made sense to any naked eye. [$@ 3#$1 25#@52 1!414#@3] It continued this for a few minutes, before the lights flashed on. There was silence beside the technolyzed life coming on. Like a techno heartbeat. It breathed life into this rusty machine. The steam from the pipes all, but the breath and lungs of this machine. The humming and vibrating merely the heartbeat. The tunnels and the stairways, merely the bloodline to the heart of this ship. Which was the clunky, generator. The mind of this machine. The masters and creators of this ship nowhere to be seen. It was all, but desolated. Except something else was stirring awake in this ship. Sleeping. Restless minds. Who had become the neural pathways for this ship for too long. Terminals fed basic information through their mind. A cerebral highway of machine and man. They were told things. Whispered things. By the ancient tech. Tech older. More advanced than them. Yet, simple in design. Yet, simple in control. The people. The only people of this ship were beginning to thaw in the cryogenic room. Machines whispering cybernetic languages to each other. As if they were thawing these people out like you’d defrost meat. These simple cryogenic tubes, began to hiss. Cool air began to form from their base. And water drained from them onto the vented floor. The doors opened, sleek and smooth, upward like a dorlean. It hung wide open. And the humans opened their eyes slowly. They were cold. And wet. Confused as to what has happened. Their minds were on fire and they were in a different atmosphere than they use to be. They were lazily looking at each other in white t-shirts and a pair of simple shorts. It was freezing. And the ceiling hissed. As they were sprayed with watery mist. Decontamination in process, spoke a woman’s voice through an intercom. They were all very confused. All though that was all seized from the fact that they were all feeling sick. Their brains were on fire. Their bodies were not ready for this environment. There was no answer from the cold and unfeeling atmosphere of this ship. Cold got into their bones. Muscles had atrophied over the years. And many memories were lost. Besides what the machines had told them. The machines and the ancient beings. It was slowly coming to them. As eyes wandered in the room. One of these people, was a murder. While feeling weak. One of them could take advantage of the other at any moment in time. It wasn’t Lakota who broke the ice first. Not in a traditional sense at least. His mind was on fire. Not on fire. No it was like being chokehold by something else. It was making him damn dizzy and his stomach was doing rollercoasters. Legit rollercoasters. Like all his internal organs were twisted into one knot. A hernia of nausea. He bent over the cryogenic bed and threw up on the floor. They were enough distance, yet alone the fact that someone was the first to do what they were all thinking about was reinforcing the sick feeling You may be feeling slight discomfort. This will past. As your body gets use to the new pressure of the environment. You will be taken to the locker rooms shortly. Please stand by.