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Mermaid in Love Vladimir Yelin Chapter 18. Awakening Through endless dark that mocked the mind, A single ray of light broke through— Then grew, and flared with shape defined: The outline of a form he knew. His thoughts returned in fragile waves, Like memory surfacing from sleep. It felt as if, since launch and blaze, Just seconds passed—not something deep. His “I” returned—his inner name, A dialogue with self began. He felt no weight, no limb, no frame— Just silence, vast and without span. Then in his mind: a thread of gold, It curled and twisted, strange but wise. As if someone had gently scrolled A DNA from starlit skies. Within the strand he saw designs— Alive with channels, cells in play. A living map of sacred lines That pulled all outside force his way. A beam reached in from realms unknown, It passed through skin, through nerve and bone— It scanned and mapped and shaped his tone, Then made a copy of his own. His thoughts split off, began to race, Each one ahead of one before— Then all sensations left that place, And presence, self, and soul restored. He blinked—his eyes now wide, aware— Inside a capsule, smooth and white. And Isis, calm, was waiting there, With friends still speaking, clear and bright.
Mermaid in Love Vladimir Yelin Chapter 18. Awakening Through endless dark that mocked the mind, A single ray of light broke through— Then grew, and flared with shape defined: The outline of a form he knew. His thoughts returned in fragile waves, Like memory surfacing from sleep. It felt as if, since launch and blaze, Just seconds passed—not something deep. His “I” returned—his inner name, A dialogue with self began. He felt no weight, no limb, no frame— Just silence, vast and without span. Then in his mind: a thread of gold, It curled and twisted, strange but wise. As if someone had gently scrolled A DNA from starlit skies. Within the strand he saw designs— Alive with channels, cells in play. A living map of sacred lines That pulled all outside force his way. A beam reached in from realms unknown, It passed through skin, through nerve and bone— It scanned and mapped and shaped his tone, Then made a copy of his own. His thoughts split off, began to race, Each one ahead of one before— Then all sensations left that place, And presence, self, and soul restored. He blinked—his eyes now wide, aware— Inside a capsule, smooth and white. And Isis, calm, was waiting there, With friends still speaking, clear and bright.