21 lines
1.1 KiB
Plaintext
21 lines
1.1 KiB
Plaintext
I still can't believe they're gone. Out the window, they look like some kind
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of twisted supernova, deformed by the imperfections in the transparent fungal
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window.
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And as if losing our generation ship, all our supplies, and, for most of us,
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our families, wasn't enough, Kieran told me there's something killing the void
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fungus. Our station is sick. She needs me to bring the news to Spirehold and
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bring back an antidote. I don't think I can fly right now, but I don't have a
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choice. If I don't, we lose Paradox too, and that leaves just Spirehold. And
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whoever else managed to escape the stellar death that drove us from our home.
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Damn the sick gods. They must enjoy seeing us mortal worms squirming. At least
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that means they probably won't let us die off entirely.
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To Spirehold, then.
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~̸̛͓͋~̷̼̥̅~̶͎͓̋̀
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U̶̺̯̓̍S̵̘͗Ȇ̷̞̭R̵̮͉̒̾:̴̥̖̈́ ̶̥̠͑A̸͆͜ṡ̶̯͓t̶͉̒̃r̵̪̂i̶̡͖̾̆d̸̝͔̆ ̸̧͈̍͘E̸̪̰̅͗r̴̭̣͒i̵͉͓̇s̸̞̱̔́
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Ś̸̨Y̶͓͇̐͆Ś̴̫̯T̷̤̺̈́̊E̸͔͛͊M̶̯͍͑:̸͈͑͌ ̶̟͗V̷͓̚Ô̶̭͊I̷̬͂D̴̬̞̀C̶̯͈̊͗Ó̶͚Ṁ̸͙̒M̶͈̊̔
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~̸̛͓͋~̷̼̥̅~̶͎͓̋̀
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