|the pygmalion. . .|
You stand with your friends, your family, and your enemies, shoulder to shoulder. The deceased and the living are the same, now, and you've been reunited with the person trapped on the opposite ship.
You have four choices.
Four options laid before you - five, if you're smart about it. You have the option of staying on the Nuwa, a ship pre-programmed to land somewhere safe, soon, and then it's your's for the taking. You have the option of entering the Nuwa's virtual reality and crafting your own perfect world, but knowing it was a perfect world created by your own hand. Your third option is one of the Cradles, a machine created to bring you bliss, and permit you the dream you've always wanted, without the knowledge it's a virtual reality. Your fourth option lays in front of you, on the bridge of the Nuwa, and it's a tear in the fabric of reality, but you can see your home waiting for you. It looks idyllic, perfect, just the way you'd want it to be. Your fifth option lies in another tear - the tear of a friend. Perhaps their heart is kind enough to take in a stray.
The choice is your's to make, and whatever you choose, know that, for the first time in fourteen weeks, it's your choice.