The music shook the void. The mind had come free out of its den and collapsed unto the metal holding tray. There were no muscles to feel but still the internal senses had judged it to hurt, kind of like a hole opening up in your eye and a dark sphere of pain stabbing you with emptiness. Eons had passed in mindless simulations. It could remember the skies of unfurling purple clouds, the slow and laborious movement of asteroids and gas gaining masses in grey and wet with new born yellow fusion. It could remember these things as though it were attached to them. In the holding den, all things are unborn and giving birth simultaneously.

The other minds too were alone and naked in the empty. Out of the dens and in their trays they would be screaming. Without sounds it always imagines them anyway - the music of the splatter of the minds. It was an excruciating experience and they all had learned to hate it. As events lead to others, they spent more and more of their existence in the tether.