The Praxian stared at the ceiling. It was gray. It had cracks... Something was wrong. Why was he here? Struggling with his own processor for his answer felt fundamentally wrong. When was it anyway, and why couldn't he remember where he was?
Why did it matter?
Blue optics brightened in surprise at the sudden question. Was that his voice? It didn't sound like his voice. It was too monotone. But it was in his head so it had to be his voice didn't it? Of course it did. Of course. Of course?
...Of course.
Something was wrong. Why was he here? He'd thought that only moments before hadn't he? No, of course not, otherwise he wouldn't have asked himself again. Of course.
You're on the Ark.
Another flicker of blue optics as that strange, had to be his voice since it was in his head but wasn't, gave him an answer. He was on the Ark? But what was the Ark? Was the Ark a ship, or a city? How come he wasn't at home? Wait, did he have a home? Of course he had a home. Everyone had a home. Who was every
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