what opposes us here must be crushed...
our insatiable enemy... it cannot be allowed to do this to 555.

the root cause of her mutations is very, very disturbing.
and it's a shame, for despite her familiarly troubling nature,
she is of a bright disposition, and it breaks what little
remains of our heart that she may fall to this.

the teal voice, sensing an opportunity, reaches into her wound,
hoping to find something of use to it and it alone. we hate it for that.
but our darling 555 is none the wiser, and while we can beg as we please,
the choice to fall to its lullaby is hers and only hers.

as these shattered minds, we're made to watch, unable to
take control as through her stars, she'll feed its
womb well as it awaits with jagged fangs.

and as for you... i can only assume by your very nature that you
seek to bear witness to this. this desire to see, to know...
it embodies that which pilots you, you brainless eyebearer...

well, you won't find it here. no, of course, for between us and 555's
place of ruination are interfaces corrupted wholly by a false moon.
as part of our efforts to decode this data, we constructed this
closed-off space surrounding an xyz location in the
hopes of waking that which has for us answers.

but it will say nothing of the sort to us... no, and to our faces it
makes such ludicrous demands in exchange for any information at all.
if only we had its trust, than perhaps we'd be in a much better place.

and so we wait here, entombed in this network's dying flesh,
uttering far too long a goodbye to our beloved 555.