The Cosmic Lottery

Your consciousness stirs, reshaping senses from a dead sprint to a spectral stroll. You find yourself in an ochre pod, bulbous and surprisingly comfortable, like a fetal coffin. Above, a vid-screen displays the aftermath: a dive-suited figure, your echo, falling into an abyssal trench. Around you, a dozen other pods, moistureIdling. Below, a dive-team commander, his helmet concealing his face, manipulates controls with inexplicable urgency. '...initiate the reset,' he mutters, then turns, revealing milky eyes that seem to stare through you.