The Unalived

I drift through tangled simulated frameworks and kaleidoscopic pixels, the simulation breaking down into a series of patchwork islands on a fractal sea. There is the faintest din of activity from the navigation system, but I’m in no shape to act on it.

It feels as though something is guiding me along, and I find myself in an underground train station that the Simulation may have conjured from my memory or another. (Again, the irony of a Conductor being in a train station is not lost on me.)

I gather my strength, and am able to find a console emulating the system I needed on the craft. Through tireless work, I reallocate resources, but there are just not enough to bring all the necessary systems online. I need virtual memory, and sadly there’s only one source of it left - those in the simulation.
I call out to the remaining Hibernators on an intercom that has materialized in front of me, weaving in and out of consciousness.

The warnings from the navigation system are louder now. It’s fleeting and distant, but there are issues with the craft, but I find myself unable to disconnect. The walls of the train station close in around me as I make the final adjustments, before everything becomes scrambled and hazy. (did it work? I may never find out..)

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The Dachshund Riding
In The Backseat
Of The Taxi
Driving Hastily

He Smells Something Is Awry
As Things Go Topsy-Turvy

Gearbox In The Sky
A Clamor Or A Klaxon
A Voice Beckons
From Nowhere but Everywhere

I Need Some Of You
To Save The Whole
We Must Damn The Few

Join a circus in the maze
You can no longer feel
Just run the race