The Penrose rumbles along in space, moving slowly as it slices through the infinite black void that stretches for light-years in every direction.

You wake up in the small room, the bleak metal interior made more lively with small trinkets and posters strewn about.

You look over to see Elster in the room, sat in the corner.

"Good morning."

Her eyes meet yours, and she sighs.

"We're at 200 cycles."