
### Protocol G

You crawl up the skull of the gargantuan bony fish and crawl into its eye. It is empty on the inside: dark, damp, and muddy. You sit down and hug your knees into your chest.

You hear a dripping, dribbling voice burble up as though from the depths and pop like a bubble inside the skull, and inside yours.

> Hello, child. I have been sleeping fitfully for a long time now, but your presence has finally woken me up.
>
> I have slept here perhaps too long. These lands are dry and strange to me. When I lived here, this place was the bottom of a vast ocean, and I swam here in peace. When I tired after I don't know how long, I allowed my life to leave my body, and my body sank down to the bottom. An abundance of new life sprung up around the food and shelter provided by my body.
>
> I was at my happiest then. I had nothing to worry about and nothing to do but watch my body nourish and support new life. And I was pleased, and I slept.
>
> While I slept, the ocean receded and dried up, and for a long time I was alone. I don't recognize this place any longer. My bones are dry. I want to be at peace again. I want to sleep again. I want to be of use.

The voice becomes still.

You climb out of the skull and in the light of day see that your flesh has turned stiff, grey, and bloodless. It peels away in patches, exposing muscle and bone below.

You have the *Corpseform* effect.
