'Course it's alive. I ain't the only one who thinks that. Plenty of people can tell you they know it too. [ And though she sounds waspishly defensive, that is true. At this point, she thinks it's just common knowledge that the Singularity is very much a living being, and anyone who disagrees is deluding themselves.

It's also true that she's here because she has no other choices. Julie has always spent her time with the Singularity under the cover of night, or at times when she has personally ensured that the Horizon is not swarming with the others. But she doesn't have that luxury right now, and she needs to be closer than simply in the Horizon. What the Singularity is trying to do, what she is trying to help it do -- it's taking too much out of both of them to be separated in any way more than their physical forms. She would murder someone for the chance to actually go to it in the real world at this moment, but this is the closest she can get.

In her mind, the Singularity tugs at her, like a toddler throwing a fit while their mother tries to have a conversation with someone else. Her attention is split and it never likes that, especially hates it now that it feels such loneliness and fear. Her head is beginning to ache again; without meaning to, she snaps. Out loud. ]

Stop.

[ There's a sliver of pause, hardly more than a breath. She doesn't notice the tears have resumed, fueled by the Singularity's overpowering emotions. Julie fixes her gaze on Kyle. ]

Just stop. Whatever you're gettin' at, this ain't the time.