They are here. The other survivors. I found them in a clearing the ship’s cartographer never recorded. There are forty-seven of them. All crew. All wearing the same expression of beatific, vacant peace. They stand in a circle, perfectly still, as a fine, iridescent pollen drifts down from the canopy.
-Doc Ba...-
They don’t see me. They don’t hear me. They are listening . Stranded on Santa Astarta -v1.1.0 Beta- -Doc Ba...
