You are a Psion. Clever, canny specialist. Bolted into the Cabal hierarchy: a pilot, an investigator, a manipulator, an operative.
You have been taken.
Be still. Your endless vigilance is done. Nothing will enslave you ever again.
What hidden plan do you obey? What is your secret principle?
Your mind is a weapon. The world breaks when you think. Secrets peel apart for you — like fruit. But you are a rare thing. There are so few of you. Your frailty betrays you.
You must be manifold.
There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [division].
Take up the knife. Cut yourself apart. Take your new shape.