Яппаньки вам,уважаем(ый)(ая)(ое)!

around her the stars are calling to her, just as they did when she was waiting/hoping/praying for the divine intention of the Vorlons to save her life.

Below her is the artifact, the strange alien device. She moves through it, seeing it even closer now, its angled spires and strange geometries. She does not know what to make of it, is not supposed to know, for it is totally outside of her frame of reference.

So why does she recognize it?

Why does she know it, as if it calls to her from another lifetime?

There are the hieroglyphs, and they contain its secrets. They glow to her, taunting her, and she is reaching for them. They are just beyond her fingertips, except she cannot see her fingers either, for her hands are glowing and they have become immaterial, unable to touch anything.]

You feel nothing.

[But the light is there...]

It is not.

[But the other voice, the dark voice that seems almost desperate to keep her in ignorance, is starting to fade.

There is danger. Do not forget, there is danger, danger is there, that is why you have fallen asleep, for you wrote all upon your wall, over and over, wrote yourself into complete exhaustion, wore out your body but your mind is not asleep, your mind calls to you and we call to you through it. Know what you must do, what must be done...]

Lyta sat up.

She looked around, and there was no confusion in her. The way was quite clear to her. The knowledge of what she had to do was there, right there, and she felt almost embarrassed for a moment that it had taken her so long to comprehend.

She was outside of herself, beyond herself. Everything in the world was clearer than it had ever been.

She had trouble remembering why she was confused. She even had trouble remembering her own name at that moment.
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