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Wafts and Zephyrs (blissful echo)

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As the Conductor, I could not partake in the dream cycles. My life had been extended through artificial means so I could survive the long journey, living a single uninterrupted existence with my own segregated dreams.

From behind the cold metal glass of the Generation Ship bridge, I could only peer into the holographic array, and read each of their dreams like numbers on a screen. As stars shifted from the main pilot’s view, I pondered what blissful lifetimes the Hibernators were experiencing.

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