Moon had completely forgotten about everything. His goals, his ambitions, his companions, the world outside, all of it dissolved into irrelevance. At some point, even his sense of self began to fragment and fade.
Who was Moon? Why was he here? What was he trying to achieve?
The questions had no answers anymore. Or rather, the answers no longer mattered.
All that remained moving forward.
A cycle repeated endlessly, mindlessly, reduced to pure instinct divorced from thought.
The pressure and weight bearing down on him were no longer something he could quantify or even properly perceive. They'd transcended measurement, becoming an absolute truth of this space.
Any normal awakener would have given up within the first fifty meters. The pain alone would have driven them to stop, to curl up and wait for mercy or death.
