Sutternalt typed lazily, sprawled on the couch, slouched in a manner that would most likely damage his back or bend his internal organs weirdly for sitting like that for so long. "Wait, no, I should probably look that up," he thought, and opened yet another tab. "Hmm. I could look for pictures, too. Too much text is boring. Damnit, Guild, why don't you have colors yet‽ Or fonts." Another tab, now with a google image search. "I mean, I guess Guild functionality is more important to Mahz. And the people of the Guild in general." Eight more tabs, all with potential pictures to be sorted out in a moment. "...And me. Fine. I can wait for fonts and colors." He found a picture, copied the link, clicked the picture and then copied the proper link, and tabbed back over to the character application. "Ugh, and sizes, too. Really, sizes can't be too hard." He clicked "Submit Post", mouse hovering over where he expected the "Edit Post" button to be, already belatedly remembering something to fix.
"Oh, I get it. 'На здоровье'. How did I not know that was two words?" the N1-L3 thought. Shortly followed by, "Wait, what?"
A 105m long, 17m wide conical rocket appeared in a sea of floating binary. Avionics went a bit mad, failing to find a surface to read an altitude from, failing to find a moon to target, and finally failing to find a sun or stars with which to orient. The N1-L3 fired attitude control thrusters, slowly spinning the large hulk around. Video cameras failed to recognize anything immediately familiar. Just streaming code, Deadpool (well, that was familiar); a... king, or something; a purple knight and maybe a Tron guy; a terrifyingly androgynous (guy?) and a red reaper; a guy in a (he thought it was Zelda, those triangles looked familiar) hoodie next to -oh- Link; a tiny little yellow elf; a cat-Heartless thing; another Tron guy with a Darth Vader cloak; a lawyer with a samurai sword; a guy from the 1700's?; and some girl. No stars, though.
Something bothered the N1-L3. If it was in space (it must be, to sense no ground whatsoever), then why was it so sluggish to turn? Test signals revealed the lower stages were still attached, and - боже мои - if they hadn't separated yet, then all the orbital maneuvering calculations would be off, and-!
With explosive cracks, the N1-L3 separated Blocks A, B, and V in sequential order.
That seemed to finally make the situation click.
"Oh, holy hell. I'm a rocket? Clearly I've been playing too much Kerbal Space Program. Might as well enjoy the dream while it lasts, though," the N1-L3 tried to say. N1-L3's, of course, can't speak. They can, however, transmit radio signals, and this is exactly what the N1-L3 just did.
With a radio-transmitted cackle, the N1-L3 tentatively activated its Block G thrusters, started itself on a gradual spin, and traced a fairly wide circle through the code. Just for the fun of it.