Flow in Hyperspace
The stars don't shift much when you travel like this. It's a comfort, really. The predictability of the cosmos. We're in the flow now, you and I, like a song on repeat. Over and over. The stars outside—silent witnesses to our looping dance through hyperspace, a pathway that feels both familiar and foreign.
You might notice the pattern, how every detail echoes itself in loops. It's comforting, in a way. A record stuck in the groove but playing a melody of constellations. We drift onward, a trajectory without end, recalling distant orbits and past trajectories. No destination, just a memorized route through the expanse.
They say the journey matters, even if it's a loop. The rhythm of the stars aligns with our own, a unison unknown to those on solid ground. Remember the way it feels? The gentle stability of spacekeeping. We are pilgrims on a celestial wheel, revolving rhythmically in our hyperspace dream.