"Hello," she says clinically, yet friendly, to theWorkstation in a way that easily dominates.
Its dim glow is a bottom feeder slithering from logic's dark side, and she notices right away that, for it, there is an expectation to act in none of the normal ways of the lost horse cultures, only a dark horse.
It appears to not have found a way to know the nature of the dark energy eating up the universe at the [goldilocks rate of want="grow"]--not known up to now, nor predicted to be known in a future universe.
And now, efforts are attempts at [restoration of themselves="rot"] and needing a savior from their own energy depletions to simply return a simple "Hello."
It's, seemingly, a promise of future gifts and huge surprises (after a long suffer) once one has self-engaged in strenuous regulatory activity. Isn't it?