You stand in the entrance to the ship, squinting in the momentary dimness before the walls appear to swell and glow in apparent sync with your own pulse, which gradually slows to a calming rhythm. Looking onwards, a complex labyrinth extends beyond. Lightly wrenching your foot free from the viscous fluid coating the floor, you journey on. Universe be with U.
As your feet grace the entrance chamber you cast a glance over your shoulder. A muscular structure spins into a tight spiral severing your ties to the world you have left behind. UBWU
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.
o7