So tight. Can’t breathe. I try to force air into my lungs, but they won’t respond; there is no air to give them. I’m dizzy; it won’t subside. It feels like a cruiser is parked on my chest. My arms are numb and tingle. I can’t focus my eyes.

My pod spins out of control; my Rifter destroyed. Warning alarms blare, Aura screaming at me, stuck in the same vocal cycle by damage or necessity I do not know.

“Warning, pod hull seal comprimised. Cloning tether severed.” Her words lose meaning to me after so many countless loops.

The liquid of my pod is so cold, so starkly different from its usual warmth. There is a loud hissing from somewhere, though whether from me or the pod I do not know. 

I want to sleep. My body tries to comply. My mind rebels against the urge. I do not want to die.

Adrenaline pumps through me, but it’s too little too late. There is nothing in me left to give. I am blind and dumb to the events going on outside of my metallic womb, my metallic grave. I cannot speak. I cannot hear. I want to puke, but only dry heave. I pull the long life support tube out of my throat. Finally the vomit comes.

Aura yells at me some more. “Warning, life support disconnected. Incompatible transfer protocol.” She’s given up on me. Typical.

The hissing grows louder in my ear drums, threatening to rupture them. I think it was a Rupture that put me in this position in the first place.

I run my hands over the smooth interior of my capsule, finally feeling the escaping atmosphere beneath the palm of my hand. My other hand reaches the crack; they cannot cover it. 

I ache beyond reason. My mind will not focus. I push myself harder but I have no reserves.

I hear Mynxee’s voice, “What is about men that they feel the need to compete in everything? Seriously Roc, you push too hard. Sometimes you just need to listen to your body and stop. You’re not as young as you used to be. You’re not going to save the world by burning yourself out.”

She laughs. Mako laughs. Veshta laughs. Cho laughs. I laugh. Why am I laughing?

Tears escape my eyes. They burn, small displaced swirls of light swimming around my vision. My hecklers continue to mock me, though they are distorted as Aura is. 

I’m so tired. I just want to sleep. 

I’ve been here before. I will be here again? Same old, same old, Sard chastises. Cussbeard says hello and thanks. Sabin tells me that my Firetail should be ready in three more days. Sam and Elly make love early in the morning. Gigaer tells me to dig deeper, that I am capable of more. Cytral, Nuuzyx, Niko, sweet Freyla, Wordsworth, Fantastic, the rookie, FullMetal Basilisk, Doc, they all smile at me knowingly. I wish I knew what they did.

I want the pain to stop. I want the madness to end. I want to speak to Aura, but my voice is raw and impotent. 

Every part of me aches. I want to sleep. I want this to end. I want to go fishing with Ombey.

Chribba drifts by in the Veldnaught, waving at me from his window. Winterblink is playing poker with him. Manasi sat this hand out. 

I’m losing it. I don’t care.

I scream for my Diva, that nameless woman of such incredible beauty that everything I am desires her. I am covered in sweat but say I am ok. She says I am not and should rest. Women don’t understand the need I have to drive myself beyond my limits. How else will I grow?

They all shake their heads at me, silently disapproving, silently understanding, silently feeling sorry for my narrow and delusional point of view. 

I need saving. I need help. 

Please, help me.