I am alone in the single seat of an escape pod. The pod is completely spherical, with the Spiral Knight crest displayed proudly above the hatch, which is incidentally pointed out towards space, the small tearium engine rumbling quietly behind me as I recline in the seat. My hammerspace unit is at my feet. I am currently engaged with looking at this world directly in front of me against the vast background of space. It is a very green world. At least from here it is. Who knows what we’ll find when we land? Of course, that’s the whole reason we were sent out here. To discover what this planet was doing here, in the exact place where our second home planet – twinned to our shared sun – was, only scant days ago. And absolutely nothing to do with the deteriorating geo-political stuff happening back on our first planet. Nope. None of that stuff happening back on Spiralia.

*Sigh*

I suppose by now you realise that I’m no typical Spiral Knight of any kind. Most Spiralians are extremely social and group-oriented by nature. Advancing themselves to advance the group. Keeping in near-constant contact with their friends. You know, social stuff.
This is how it’s been for as long as any of us can remember (and considering how long we can live before we start deconstructing, that is quite long).

But me? I rarely talk to anyone (outside of a few chosen friends that is), I help people, not out of duty, but out of kindness.
Add in the fact that people say that this doesn’t make me an outcast in their eyes, and that they will quite happily accept me no matter how unorthodox I am; that just ends up making me feel even worse, and I just get more and more isolated from the others. I don't care if they had good intentions. The actions still count more

And that leads back to were I started. With me sitting all by my lonesome looking at this plan-
Wait. What was that? Did that thing just emit a heat wave? Oh, shi-!

*A deep reverberating vibration passes through everybody and every part of the Skylark. The Skylark begins to disintegrate as large sections of its filigree Ironwood plating slough off, its vaulted framework of celestial steel warped but not torn by invisible hands, and its large but sleek shape bends backwards unto the Tearium core as if it was eating itself.*

The sound of the Skylarks evacuation broadcast comes across loud and clear: The Skyalrk is under attack. Evacuate. This is not a drill. The skylark is under attack. Evacuate. This is not.... Her voice is quickly lost amid all the noise.

And since I am currently in an escape pod, guess what’s going to happen?
The Tearium engine powers up on my rescue pod, the latches which were so dutifully holding my pod to the Skylark let go, and soon I’m blasting off towards the unidentified planet. But before I've even cleared the space between the latches, I'm hit by an overwhelming burst of energy. But it doesn't feel like the uplifting, pain-cleansing burst of energy of a revive. Instead, it feels like a wall made of sharp ice is swallowing me whole, from my back to your chest. And whatever part of your body is hit, a dozen sharp icicle are inserted methodically into that spot. And the pain is so intense, and the blast so bright, he seeks respite in the comforting numbness which is creeping around the edges of his perception.

Then you realize a truth, if you are no longer Slasherdasher, you cannot feel his pain. So you stop being Slasherdasher. You stop feeling his pain. And instead you become nothing.