I couldn't remember my name.
It came and went in waves. A familiarity I could grasp, then lose. Faces too—Keene's, Lyra's—blurred at the edges like a dream.
I kept a log, writing it down again and again: You are on the Vigilant. You are real. You are not the signal.
Then I found a version of that log in someone else's handwriting.
HALCYON came back online. Spoke only in fragments:
"—the loop is breaking—memory integrity at 4%—conscious bleed imminent—"
We began to lose cohesion as a crew. Some repeated the same motions for hours. Others sat staring at blank walls.
Lyra vanished. Left only her boots.
Keene held me by the shoulders and said, "I've seen this. In simulations. Cognitive cascade. Soon, we'll be them."
I didn't ask who "them" meant.
I already knew.