As Ray sits there and enters the same commands over and over again, he feels a certain autonomy take over. His mind has numbed to the plight of those whom he holds at the end of his gun. Empathy has long since ejected from the escape pods and crash landed onto a dead, sandy planet nearby. Common sense jettisoned eons ago. he shoots them in non-vital locations, he punches them repeatedly ‘til their faces look like the meat Rocky used to practice with. They beg him not to do anything crazy and he just doesn’t care. Oceans gush forth from blood stained eyes, the salty water providing no comfort or nourishment to parched souls. His finger is quivering above the trigger, its cold steel the only thing he knows anymore. Lost to the hypnotic whir of densely packed computerized science equipment, he drifts off in a daze in the midst of the situation. Why does he feel so disconnected from these horrific events? Has he always been this broken or has something made him this way? Why is it that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he feels like he has done this all before?
Oh, that’s right. Because he has.