>>534090668
The nigkin blossoms from a wretched and inhospitable womb by default; it is beset on all sides by smokeleaf, psychite and alcohol damage. If the fetus is carried to term alive, in slim odds, it is guaranteed an impoverished life of servitude, whether knowingly coerced or not. This quiet entrance into and exit out of the world spares it a howling, pleading end at the hands of a man in power armor decades later; no amount of technological progress or genetic uplifting on the nigkin's own part can alter this preconceived course of fate. For this is the end Luna chose for her sons and daughters, the same anguish she feels now. She has merely reaped far earlier than expected. There is no going back.