Now safely aboard, you await your masking ceremony where its metallic finish will reflect all that you are part of. You will gaze wistfully into the void, but not with sadness for what has passed. Instead, you will dream of what will be. UBWU
As you enter, you are greeted with an outstretched hand. You grip it firmly, but not so firmly as to appear abrasive. As you do so the hand appears to melt, your fingers melding with it's rapidly unrecognisable form. Is this the unification you seek, the oneness with all? No, you have accidentally stumbled into a clay sculpting class and appear to be manhandling a rudimentary clay figure of an elderly man.
As you board the ship a collection of eyes burrow through the wall scanning your metallic form. A sickening shriek rings out as a pair of lips emerge, parting the fleshy walls as its long tongue unfurls. You reach out to grasp a note, slick to the textured surface of the appendage. It reads... Universe be with U
o7