Alicia was surrounded by a soft grey calm as she slipped into consciousness. She felt no pain and no fear. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard Vivaldi —Spring — the rift one minute in on repeat. At first, it was comforting, but then irritating and shrill. She wasn’t sure if she couldn’t move her limbs or simply wouldn’t. And then suddenly the pain of heat and cold stretched through her, and her body was confronted by a myriad of sensations and sounds. Moans, cries, splooshing fluids and the suctioning noise of people rising from their cryogenic baths.
She shot up. Ooff, her muscles were granular and thick, like curdled and seized chocolate. The gelatinous, yet fluid blue slime of her opened pod clung to her skin and snaked into her mouth and airways. She choked, hacking up a bitter green substance before gasping for breath.
