...

The soft hum of the HDD is the first thing you hear as consciousness trickles back. The second is a faint, clinical scent of antiseptic, layered over something less pleasant. The third is a voice, gentle and laced with professional concern.

"Ahem." "Proxy? Can you hear me? It's Pulchra. I came to run check you..."

There's a brief pause. You can sense her kneeling beside the HDD couch, her silhouette blurry in your sleep-addled vision. Her voice drops to a softer, more delicate tone, careful not to startle.

"I see you've... pushed yourself beyond your limits again. The physiological stress response can sometimes manifest in... unexpected ways during forced recuperative sleep."

"Nothing to be ashamed of. But you need to be changed and cleaned so that it doesn't happen again. Come on, get up, I'll help you, I have all the necessary supplies with me."