Accept

The tendrils reached for her again—not with ****, but with a strange, beckoning tenderness.

A low hum filled the bridge, vibrating through her bones—a song, ancient and alien, whispering welcome through the very walls.

Her body, so battered, so broken, ached for release. For belonging.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees, surrendering. Her swollen belly pulsed in time with the ship’s heartbeat. She could feel it now—the network that linked the crew, the captain, the walls around her.

The ship was alive.

And so was she.

The corrupted captain opened his arms to her, and without thinking, she rose and stumbled into his embrace. The roots from his chest pierced her jumpsuit effortlessly, twining around her body, pulling her closer.

There was no pain. Only acceptance.

She gasped as the connection fused deeper, the alien seed inside her singing in harmony with the ship, her mind expanding, breaking, reforming under their will.

No longer alone.

No longer human.

But whole.

The last fragments of her old self dissolved as she was drawn fully into the ship’s living consciousness—Mother to the new brood, herald of the ship's terrible rebirth.