Blink.
Blink.
All Cyrus could do was blink. There were no words, no thoughts that could describe what he was seeing... he simply couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could they... what were they...
Blink. Blink.
The entire act was completely foreign to him. Sure, he'd heard about it. Sure, he'd read about it. He might've thought about it happening to him once, but those thoughts must have been dismissed instantly; he was going to rebuild the world in his own image, and that was what he had to focus on. He didn't have time for other... for this... for...
Blink. Blink.
It was unnecessary for him... wasn't it? And until now he had assumed that it was unnecessary for everyone else... wasn't it? But there they were, right in front of him, right now. And the way they... and when he... and then they... then she... was this...
Blink.
He slid away silently, trying to force the confusing image out of his mind and replace it with plans for dealing with this so it wouldn't baffle him any further. Blink, blink, blink.
The next day, Cyrus returned to the room, put up a sign—"Team Galactic Nap Room: Ensure the bed is unoccupied before getting into it!"—and walked back to his office to discuss important matters of professional conduct and salaries with Mars and Saturn.