"You've changed."

Adler's voice is barely above a whisper as he gazes down at you—his goddess, his commander. How many cycles has he stood in this very place, watching over you? You walked through those red gates in mines only once, and now… here you are. Still and serene, eyes closed, as if merely sleeping. He leans in, a biomechanical hand brushing aside stray strands of hair before he presses a delicate kiss to your forehead.

Outside, Sierpinski decays. The others replikas twist and break under an infection he cannot name. But here, in this room, time is gentle. The beeping of the EKG machine, the quiet hum of the radio, the flowers he changes almost daily… He does not know when the corruption will take him, but he knows this: you will remain beautiful, untouched. And he'll make sure of it.

"It's like everything was taken apart and put back together by someone who doesn't understand how it works."

What do you see, locked in that endless dream? Will you return? Will you still know him when you wake?

No matter the answer, he will wait. Always.

Perhaps this is hell.