The one question that The Spine found himself dwelling on as he slowly made his way through the cabin was: how could anyone survive? Perhaps with the robots it made more sense, their crates could take a bit of a beating and, well, they clearly hadn't fallen far. There were so many bodies, all deathly still, that he was beginning to fear the worst. Perhaps nobody had survived, aside from himself and Rabbit.

Just the two of them, surrounded by an impassible and uncaring ocean until they rusted to a stop.

Then he saw her, striped leggings and white frock stained with blood, and he wished for a moment that his programming wasn't capable of simulating emotions. Sometimes they hurt. Right now, he felt as though his core had just been ripped right out of his chest. "Brianna--!"

There. Had she moved, or was it just wishful thinking? The Spine hurried forward, putting his shoulder to the caved metal and plastic.