The image you've generated here is one of a group of explorers jumping deeper and deeper into sub-sector sized Red Zone. The closer they get to the source of the mystery, the stranger the feelings that start to overcome them. Finally, they make planetfall, and driven by a combination of curiosity and now-unconscious instinct or conditioned drive, they move inexorably towards Mother. Finally, with a mass of spider-like eyes and growing-then-recessing tentacles and the odd mouth of almost every conceivable construct they find the love and fulfillment that would make any parent weep with joy.
They walk beatifically towards their doom, greeting it with an absolute lack of self-awareness, their conscious sense of self preservation no more than mewling worm cowering in a corner of their anterior cortex. They see each other grinning, laughing, sobbing, open-mouthed in near-ecstatic awe, with a tendril of thought still held by the remnants of what they used to think of as their sanity. They stand before her/him/home/joy/love/god/alphaandomega, as silky threads of itself reach for them. They reach out, one of them collapsing in ecstasy, eyes squeezed shut and mouth in an open but silent rictus. At the touch another of them sees the most beautiful woman he has ever been unable to conceive of. His eyes actually hurt from the magnitude of her almost literally heart-stopping beauty, and he narrowly avoids scooping them out of his head them out with his own fingers before he closes them as he turns skyward and howls like every single beast he's heard.
The engineer sees her father, long dead but clearly no longer. Love wells up through her belly, catching her diaphragm and causing her to hold her breath almost until unconsciousness. Slowly enough air hisses in to stave off her collapse, drawn in a non-autonomic manner as she must stay upright, must be able to move, so she can reach him and hold him and be whole again in a way she didn't know she was ever lacking.
Only the astrogator, from the edge of space and with a weak genetic link to her companions, is able to muster anything like conscious control. She fights, she wrestles. Grunts escape the grimace that is her face. Two of her molars crack from the pressure of her biting so hard as she fights the demon of reward now only paces away. Her breathing quickens as she stops her forward motion, the effort causing her to let out sharp savage barks. She turns, hands and arms almost like living eels savagely tearing at each other in their haste to both escape their new lord of grief and longing but desperate to reach out for them. Her mind almost snapped past logic and sense, she sees the others step into the mass, walk into enormous suckers, and give themselves up to gelatinous maws. She turns, feeling the first sparks of hope flicker in the depths of her mind, before the mass of delicate wavy tendrils reach out to then wrap around her, send her into an immediate climax, then draw her into the formlessness from which they grew and into which they return.
Then silence. The wind, not living but seeming to in this place, plays over the organs that slowly dissolve back into the formless hill that the footprints lead up to. Over time the eddys erase the imprints in the dust, and only the thing of birth and doom remains. But more will come.
Got a little carried away there.
