The ideocosm contained within this helm transforms the wearer's head from flesh and/or exoneurons to the pure, raw stuff of thought.
Ghost, record this.
Trial 1: I am now putting the Astrocyte Verse on my
Beginning of all endings
Dying into infinite composite
All nothings begin therewhen
Fear is very small and it is everywhy and it is not fear it is a brutal spark a nerve ending straining under weight multimyr iteration could not foresee even though it is just that because there is no other—
Acausals whickering away become jagged umami zeroes
Awe yourself toward reddening shift
[Ghost note: key of Eb minor]
[silence lasting 4.22 minutes]
Good work, Ghost. Now, let's go again.
Trial 93. I am now putting the Astrocyte Verse on my head—