There’s a million voices now.
Way to elaborate…
Ok, maybe not a million, but enough to fill a stadium. I can hear snatches of words. Sometimes it’s English, sometimes it’s not, sometimes it’s English with another language layered in the background.

Can you hear me?
Answer me, can you hear me?
Assume that they can.
They sound mad. Are you mad at me?
Stop trying to communicate, just hide until you know something.
Great, now they’re silent. I don’t know what’s more frightening, the fact that they stopped, or the chance that they heard me.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It’s not like things can exactly get worse.
Are you mad at me?
…they definitely know I’m here.
Stop screaming at me!
Stop it!
Stop it!
Stop it.
Stop saying yes. Stop saying no. Stop saying maybe. Stop asking why me.
I don’t know why me, I don’t even know what’s going on.
You’re all just as dead as me, right?
…this is not the time to tell me you aren’t real. Really here. Aren’t real or really here. I know you’re here, I can hear you.
Can you tell me where we are?
What the hell do you mean nowhere?
Think about it, Spyder – nowhere actually makes a lot of sense. Nowhere explains the sensory dep. Nowhere would explain the lack of passage to the fluffy cloud place. If that’s where we’re going, I think it’s wise to hedge the bets…
No, no, no, nowhere doesn’t explain who the hell those other voices are. If it’s nowhere, why the hell is it so crowded? Shouldn’t it be more like, population: me?
Where the hell did you come from?
Use words that I can understand! I don’t…don’t use the language that…
Shut up and listen to them for a moment.
It’s not English, it’s not…I can’t understand them…
Astrin’s world, you’re from Astrin’s world, aren’t you?
It’s such a strange word.
You’re an idiot Spyder, of course it’s strange, it’s alien.
It’s a forgotten word. It’s a forgotten world.
Angry voices are angry. Confused voices are confused. Now that I’ve heard the name of the world, I can hear them clearer. Not that that helps me understand what they’re saying, but it makes me feel more like I’m a part of a crowd, not apart from it.
It’s a nice feeling. I think it’s the first nice feeling I’ve had since I’ve been dead.
Great, now you’re part of something in a big nothing.
It’s still better than being alone.


They’re gone, Spyder.
It’s not that you aren’t great company, but…
Alone might be better. It’s always been just us. We can get through this. You can get through this.
There’s no point in hiding your thoughts from me.
I’m scared.
I know.
[table id=15 /]