With the abandoned station’s resources nearly exhausted, Holsten’s cataloguing work winds down and he shifts to on-call translation while spending most of his time assisting Vrie Guyen’s private project. Meanwhile, hundreds of newly awakened passengers fill the Gilgamesh, making it noisy and alive as they refit the ship with salvaged Old Empire technology, notably a highly efficient fusion reactor. Holsten broods over humanity’s continued dependence on ancient designs.

Lain calls Holsten to the station for a vaguely described “dangerous translation.” Seeking space from Guyen, Holsten accepts, travels by shuttle, and contemplates the fungus-choked planet below. On arrival, Lain welcomes him with preserved Old Empire food and opens a viewport to reveal the battered, fragile-looking Gilgamesh adrift outside.

They share an awkward but companionable meal that leads to renewed intimacy. Both reflect on their long, fragmented lives and isolation across centuries of flight and crisis, finding comfort in each other’s similarly stunted social skills.

Afterward, Lain voices worry about Guyen’s secret installations: he has awakened his own engineers and is fitting systems aboard the Gilgamesh without her oversight. She dislikes having unknown, potentially dangerous devices on her ship and presses for clarity.

Holsten admits that Guyen’s project is a mind-upload facility. Lain is wary, while Holsten, parsing ancient manuals, becomes convinced the system’s purpose matches the phenomenon they have already encountered: Doctor Avrana Kern’s presence likely arises from a human mind upload sealed within her orbital “coffin.”