[ Allison is certain she's regretting this already, from the moment his first rambling set of words appears in flat text in front of her vision. But she's, also, certain she's the only person in this house that gets what it's like to suddenly be out the ability to talk. For months and months and months, with no warning. She doesn't wince, and it's definitely a choice, that one, but she hopes that she won't be loudly regretting this in less than an hour, or a day.

Allison switches back to speaking, because her days of being able to already down and counting. Sue her. ]

No. There's no sound. It's just another part of The Network you can use on your communicator. Except it's in your head. Write the message by choosing the letters with your thoughts, and hit send once it's complete. Same as texting. Everyone has it, from the moment they get here, but no one seems to know that they have it. It's designed as part of a battlefield program that apparently we all have, and no one about, and no one seems to need anymore.

The late leader of Aegis showed me it during our Swear-In.