Chapter Thirty-OneI float in Headspace for a moment, as though catching my nonexistent breath. Then I bring my attention to the surrounding shapes.
They’re the familiar warm, purple, popcorn-tasting roundish octahedrons that brought me the vision of my death before.
How kind of them to be right where I need them.
Maybe Felix was right when he thought that the visions I need might be the very first shapes I encounter upon entry. But if so, how does that work? How do they know I need them?
Setting aside my analysis of Headspace metaphysics, I note that these shapes are subtly different from the ones before.
In fact, even their music is slightly less foreboding than the last time.
“I’m not leaving Headspace until I see this,” I mentally state, as I did the last time, in case an ultimatu
