The alien planet, Ourelieth—land of the Calenarians—shrank as I flew through the cosmos. The shipyard's wreckage became a tiny speck on the distant violet sphere.
I stopped.
What surrounded me were stars, colour and the untouched frontiers of space. Ourelieth's orange star sat in the distance, bathing me in a twilight glow. I hovered there for a moment.
I couldn't stop staring, captivated by its beauty.
Back on Earth, people spent entire careers studying photographs of distant worlds.
I was looking at one with my own eyes.
Its planets surrounded it. Ourelieth's violet veil glowed; distant gas giants loomed; and another planet, one that caught my eye.
As I moved closer, its details revealed themselves. It looked like nothing more than an inconspicuous ocean—like Earth without land; it was even blue. Except that the ocean on this planet glowed far brighter. I circled the planet, and even the dark side lit up with a cyan glow. Something was lighting up the water from beneath.
And that wasn't all.
Vast columns of gas erupted from the ocean across the planet at seemingly random intervals. At first, I assumed they were volcanic eruptions. Then I realised they weren't emerging from the ocean at all.
They were punching through it.
The plumes burst upward for hundreds of kilometres before dissipating into space. Around the impact sites, the ocean rippled outward in enormous rings, waves so large they were visible from orbit. Some travelled thousands of kilometres before colliding with others, forming shifting patterns across the planet's surface.
The longer I watched, the stranger it became. There were too many eruptions. Too many waves. Too much energy. The entire ocean seemed alive somehow, constantly moving, constantly responding to forces hidden beneath it.
I looked for continents. Islands. Anything.
There were none.
Just an endless blue sphere hanging in the darkness, glowing softly against the stars while something far below continued to stir.
I wanted to go down there—see what lay beneath the sea. But I shouldn't, I needed to get home. I wanted to go home. And yet, the curiosity clawed at me.
I'm the first human to ever reach these frontiers.
The first human ever to see this planet.
A smile curved on my face—I can't let this opportunity slide, can I? Think about all the new knowledge I can bring back to Earth.
I lowered myself into the planet slowly. There was no atmosphere, no air, just a vast ocean bordering the vast expanse of space. As I touched the surface of the sea, the waves stroked my feet. They were pretty warm to say they were touching the cosmos.
On second thought, it didn't make sense. But I'm no astrophysicist, so I gave it no more thought—
And dived into the planet.
There was nothing around me but a deep blue. I swallowed. Every part of my body was urging me to leave. And I probably would've.
Then I looked down.
The ocean wasn't getting darker. It was getting brighter. Far below, something was glowing. Like a golden sun. I wanted to find out what that was.
So I descended through the ocean.
The water was warm.
Not just warm for an ocean. Warm despite the fact that there was no atmosphere above it. No air. No weather. No reason for the sea to retain heat.
Yet it did.
My guess is that it's from whatever lies at the core.
Schools of fish drifted past me. Some were no larger than my hand. Others stretched for dozens of metres, their metallic scales reflecting the blue glow surrounding them. They paid me little attention as they moved through the endless water.
They weren't Calenarians.
They weren't Human.
But they were alive.
Creatures that existed trillions of miles from Earth. Beings that would live their entire lives without ever knowing Humanity existed.
A small fish drifted a few metres away and stopped.
It was oval-shaped, its scales shimmering between turquoise and silver as it hovered in the water. Its thin, transparent coat of fur fluttered like tassels. Two large black eyes stared directly at me.
I stared back.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
Then, cautiously, it swam closer.
And closer.
Until it was close enough that I could've touched it. The fish tilted its body slightly, studying me. Curious. I raised my hand gently not to scare the creature. The purple aura on my finger flickered. The fish carefully analysed it, orbiting as it nibbled.
I couldn't help but smile.
"Hey."
It flicked its tail. Then immediately darted away into a passing school, vanishing among hundreds of others.
I watched it disappear.
The universe suddenly felt a little less empty.
A faint vibration brushed against my skin.
I froze
The water around me trembled.
The vibration came again.
Stronger this time.
The nearby fish immediately reacted. Schools that had been lazily drifting through the water suddenly converged on a single point ahead of me. More arrived from the darkness beyond, drawn towards it from every direction.
Did he bring his friends?
The vibration came again.
Stronger this time.
Wait.
No.
They're not after me.
None of them were looking at me. But instead—
Looking down.
Towards the light.
Then I remembered the plumes I'd seen from orbit.
The geysers.
My eyes widened.
"Oh."
I immediately darted sideways.
The ocean exploded.
An immense column of pressure erupted upwards from below, blasting through the water with enough force to throw several unfortunate fish into the distance. The shockwave rolled through the sea around me.
Yet the rest of the fish didn't flee.
Quite the opposite.
They surged towards the path the geyser had taken.
Thousands of them.
They swarmed through the turbulent water like gulls descending upon scraps of food. Tiny glowing particles drifted in the geyser's wake, and the fish snapped them up before they could disperse into the ocean.
Within moments, the feeding frenzy was over.
The schools scattered once more, vanishing back into the endless blue as though nothing had happened.
The ocean fell quiet.
I looked up. I was so deep that I couldn't even see the top anymore—just endless blue that ironically got darker the shallower you went.
I continued deeper.
Chasing the light.
The water was denser. The pressure around my body and the water's resistance were getting stronger. But that wasn't important, because shapes began emerging from the blue.
Mountains.
Or at least, that's what it looked like at first. Enormous rocky peaks rose through the ocean, their slopes coated in algae-like growths and swarms of fish. Some stretched so high that their summits vanished into the darkness above, while others formed entire ridges that wound across the depths.
I was getting closer to the bottom; below, I heard rumblings; plumes of gas began shooting up around me much more frequently.
As I scaled down the mountains, the water here was alive.
Small fish and slug-looking organisms nibbled at the stone. Larger creatures drifted between the peaks. Every surface seemed coated in some form of life.
The water got hotter. It rippled heavier as I got deeper. Golden light beamed through, ahead, it looked like the skies at dawn.
It was like I was approaching the top of the ocean.
What?
Did I turn around somewhere?
Did I pass a portal into another planet? One with a sky and a sun? I can't have, otherwise the mountains beside me would be upside down. Unless—
It's a floating island.
I edged closer to the… surface? Or whatever it was. Beyond, it looked like a golden sun hung right in front of me.
I raised my hand to the surface.
And pushed it through.
It was hot. Humid. The air inside was thick, like it was a wall of pure smoke. The pressure was immense, honestly, it felt like my arm was being crushed.
But curiosity got the better of me; I had to see what lay beyond.
Slowly, I passed through.
It was like I entered another ocean—one made of boiling gas. It almost felt as though I could grab the air itself. It was that thick. At the bottom of the bright haze was a surface that glowed molten gold. Magma burst through the surface, bubbling and spewing into the air. Smoke spat out of the magma before cooling into a crust. This happened repeatedly across the surface, spewing more gas into the ocean, which would force more gas into the actual ocean above.
So that's the planet's core? So I didn't get lost… then…
I turned around—looked up at where I'd just come from,
And forgot how to breathe.
"Holy shit."
The ocean wasn't just above me—
It was the sky.
An endless blue veil stretched across the heavens. Waves rolled overhead. Sunlight danced across its underside. Schools of fish drifted through a sea suspended where clouds should have been.
Below me lay the molten heart of the planet.
Above me hung an ocean.
I stared for a long time, unable to piece together the sight in front of me.
Space really is incredible.
A droplet formed on the surface, welling up and hanging down towards the core below. Eventually, the droplet succumbed to the forces of gravity and fell.
It vaporised in the air.
Now small water particles—
Rising up to the ocean to be recycled again.
But that wasn't all, thousands of small water droplets rained down, only to evaporate instantly.
The vapour rose back towards the sea.
The sea returned it to the sky.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The entire planet existed in a state of endless conflict.
Water trying to fall.
Heat trying to reclaim it.
And even weirder, hanging from the mountains above, were giant stalks which were each the size of mountains themselves, reaching down into the core. Thick reefs hung from the ocean like stalactites. Fronds lined their stems, each the size of a house, waving and breathing. The reefs expanded into bulbous heads, covered with billions of tiny filaments.
Small creatures crawled, caressed by the filaments.
Even in this intense environment,
Life continues.
I wish I had a camera. Or even my sketchbook. I could sit here for hours, days.
Even now, I hovered, soaking up every detail of the scene.
Eventually, I glanced back towards the molten world below. The geysers continued to erupt from the glowing surface, feeding the endless ocean hanging overhead. Water fell. Vapour rose. The cycle continued.
A world suspended between two states.
Between sea and sky.
Between liquid and gas.
Both hellish and beautiful.
I smiled.
"Blue Lantern."
The name felt right.
One final look.
Then I shot upwards.
The thick mineral atmosphere resisted me at first. Clouds of glowing vapour rushed past as I pierced through the golden haze. Moments later, I burst back through the ocean layer.
The water was cooler here.
Darker.
Schools of fish scattered around me as I accelerated towards the surface.
Ahead, the ocean shimmered.
I pushed through.
The sea exploded outward as I emerged into open space.
Several geysers erupted simultaneously around me—massive columns of gas punching through the ocean, rising hundreds of kilometres into the void. Ripples raced across the planet's surface. Cyan light danced across the endless sea.
It almost looked as though the world was waving goodbye.
I chuckled.
Then, I turned towards the stars.
One of them—
Was home.
I moved, leaving Ourelieth and Blue Lantern behind—the planets merging into the star as I went further and further away.
I searched the sea of stars that lay before me. Stars and planets, just like Blue Lantern, are waiting to be discovered.
Not so far away, I saw a light twinkling. I squinted. It sat beside the nearest star. So it wasn't the star that was twinkling, but a planet, or some other body, waiting to be discovered.
I drew closer, gradually approaching the planet.
First came the colour.
From a distance, it appeared lavender, almost gentle against the darkness of space. But as I closed the gap, the surface began to move.
Pulses of red, green, blue and deep violet flashed beneath the clouds like lightning trapped inside a gemstone. The colours didn't stay in one place. They flowed through the cloud layer in immense currents, illuminating the atmosphere from within before fading back into darkness.
I couldn't even tell what I was looking at.
Vast bands of cloud twisted around the globe in colossal spirals, wrapping around one another before vanishing into cyclones large enough to swallow countries. Beneath them, something glittered. A smooth reflective layer stretched between gaps in the cloud cover, catching flashes of coloured light from below.
The entire planet looked alive.
Like a giant heart beating beneath layers of storm.
I entered the planet.
Impossibly fast winds punched me instantly. I was thrown sideways before I could even react. The atmosphere howled around me. Clouds of lavender vapour raced past at impossible speeds.
Something struck my cheek.
Then another.
Then dozens more.
I covered my face. Tiny particles tore through the air around me. They bounced from my skin and shattered against my arms. It stung. Not enough to injure me. Just enough to hurt. The impacts became constant. Like hail.
Except hail wasn't supposed to glitter.
I opened one eye.
The particles flashed as they tumbled through the storm. Thousands of tiny jagged fragments, catching flashes of red, blue and violet lightning as they flew past. A larger shard spun by my face.
Transparent.
Sharp.
Beautiful.
Then I understood.
It wasn't hail.
It was glass.
Glass raining from the sky.
And somehow—
It was raining sideways.
Colours flashed all around me. Each cloud was an explosion of colour. Red thunder crackled through the atmosphere. Green lightning illuminated walls of vapour. Deep violet flashes rippled through the storm.
The planet sang.
Every strike produced a low rumble that echoed through the clouds.
The winds carried me with them.
I tried to fight it.
Nothing.
I couldn't even stabilise myself enough to fly.
All this power.
All this strength.
And yet a gust of wind had reduced me to little more than a leaf.
I closed my eyes—relaxed, placing myself in the hands of the winds.
They threw me in all directions. I'd lost all sense of orientation. Up and down became meaningless as my body twisted and rotated at speeds I couldn't comprehend.
Eventually, the wind stopped.
The air was lighter.
I opened my eyes.
Above me were the clouds I left behind.
Below me were even more clouds.
Yet here, between them, the atmosphere was tranquil.
I drifted slowly. A gentle chime rang in the distance. It came from below—hidden among the clouds.
My grandmother had chimes in her back garden…
They used to flutter in the wind.
Singing softly in the summer air.
…
I want to go home.
The clouds below embraced me. This time, This time the winds were little more than a gentle breeze, stroking against my skin.
Thunder crackled.
A flash of green—a chime.
A flash of red—another.
The deeper I drifted, the louder they became.
Then the clouds parted.
And I forgot about home.
Forgotten about Earth.
Hundreds of kilometres below me stretched a crystal plain that reached beyond the horizon.
I stopped.
Mountains of glass reached up into the heavens. Was it ice? No. Colours flared up beneath. Red. Green. Violet. Flashing from somewhere beneath it, pounding against the solid shell, and causing it to sing.
Another strike followed.
The world sang again.
I drifted lower. The closer I got, the more impossible the world became. This wasn't a frozen ocean; it was one giant crystal heart at the centre of a gas giant.
Another flash.
And for a moment, I saw something illuminate beneath the thick clouds beneath the glass sheet.
There was more down there.
Something hid even deeper.
I planted my feet against the shell. It was warm, and it hummed gently.
It flashed again.
Was that a…
Mountain?
I crouched down.
Another flash.
Trees.
Far, far below, there was land—untouched land—that lived, protected by a veil of crystal.
I wonder what else is down there. The crystal's thick, but I can definitely break it with this power. I've destroyed starships, so a sheet of crystal should be nothing.
I cocked my fist back.
Energy converged in my knuckles.
I swung and—
Stopped—
Just above the crystal—the power was still enough to crack the shell.
Below the crack—on the otherside of the shell—eight legs crawled across the glass. The creature's body was thick and round. It stopped below my hand—on the other side of the glass.
The window into another world.
I loosened my fist and placed my palm against it.
On the other side, wings unfurled on the creature's back, and a moment later, it flew away from the glass.
I shouldn't.
This planet's life has existed for thousands, even possibly millions of years, without interference from the outside world.
Who was I to change that?
I sat down on the crystal, looking up at the clouds above. The chimes filled the silence. One after another. Endless.
I listened for a while.
There wasn't much else to do.
…
I wonder how everything's going back home.
Is everyone…
Ok now?
Tom.
Krista.
Everyone.
Is the war over?
I didn't receive an answer, just the ringing of the crystals that stretched into the horizon.
My hand slipped slightly. Something was touching it. I looked down. It was a small shard that had chipped off the surface—About the size of my hand. Small violet currents sparked within it, like a plasma globe.
I smiled.
"Glassheart."
I picked up the shard.
Time to go.
I stood up.
For a moment, I unveiled my pocket and placed the shard in there.
Then I shot up into the clouds, slicing through them.
I shot past the space between cloud layers.
Then I entered the next layer of—
"AGHHHHH!"
I forgot…
The winds.
My body was flung around once more.
Then I was shot back downwards.
Huh?
I stabilised.
Then shot up once more into the clouds.
I made a few kilometres before being flung around and back down again.
Then I tried again.
And again.
Every time, being flung back down.
God dammit!
How the hell do I get off this planet?!
I hovered between the cloud layers, watching the storms rage above. Every cyclone twisted in the same direction. Every current flowed towards the same handful of colossal spirals.
I frowned.
Wait.
I stopped.
The winds carried me lazily through the open space between the clouds.
The cyclones.
Of course.
To my right, far in the distance, there was a giant cyclone—one the size of a town.
I went to it.
From the bottom, I looked up. The cyclone towered above me. Glass spiralled through its centre. Lightning flashed between the walls of cloud. The entire thing rotated slowly, like a giant screw boring its way into space.
That's my way out.
Right.
Here goes nothing.
I shot straight through.
No wind could stop me.
By following the planet's rules, it let me go.
I looked back.
The cyclone shrank slowly.
Was it…?
No.
I need to keep going.
The space between worlds became larger as I travelled.
It took a long time of travelling before I found the next planet.
I almost crashed straight into it, just managing to stop myself at the last possible second.
"Is this a planet?"
It was pitch black. The only reason I spotted it was because as I got closer, the stars disappeared.
Is it a black hole?
No.
It's a planet.
Or is it?
It's tiny—about the size of the moon, drifting alone through space.
Then something peeked out from behind it—an object even smaller.
A giant space rock, made up of pure magma, orbits it.
It curved around, illuminating small patches of the dwarf planet like a torch. As the lantern reached me, I looked down at the patch that lit up.
It was grey. Dull. Nothing but craters on an abandoned planet.
I inched forward anyway. Maybe there was something hidden. Some strange life like Glassheart and Blue Lantern.
Then I stopped.
The magma passed around the planet, swallowed by darkness as it disappeared behind the planet.
I sighed.
No.
I can't be bothered.
"Dull Lantern."
I flew onward.
Another planet.
Another star.
Another system.
The nebula I passed was pretty cool. There was a red ring and a blue ring colliding, forming a violet eye in the centre.
I gazed at if for a second.
Then continued.
How much time has passed, anyway?
I should probably try and keep track.
One,
Two,
Three,
Four,
…
Five thousand six hundred and…
Wait…
What came after six hundred?
Shit.
One,
Two,
Three,
Four,
…
Seven hundred and eighty—
"George?"
"Krista?!"
My head snapped around instantly.
Nothing.
Just black void.
The stars stared back at me.
Silent.
Distant.
Uncaring.
I snorted.
"Looks like I'm losing it."
I continued. Another star drifted past. Then another. Then another. I stopped looking at them. There wasn't much point. They all looked the same from here.
…
One,
Two,
Three,
Four.
…
I lost count again.
At some point, another planet appeared in the distance. I barely glanced at it before continuing onwards. It could've been made of diamonds. It could've been alive. I didn't care enough to find out.
The universe was becoming repetitive.
Another star.
Another planet.
Another nebula.
Another moon.
Everything blurred together.
How long had it been now? Days? Weeks? Months?
I didn't know.
I wasn't even sure if I was moving in the right direction anymore.
"George."
I stopped.
My eyes darted around the void.
Nothing.
Just stars.
"..."
I rubbed my face and continued flying.
A while later—
"George."
I froze again.
There it was.
That voice.
Not loud.
Not quiet.
Just clear enough that I couldn't ignore it.
I spun around.
Nothing.
"Okay."
I pointed into empty space.
"Whatever cosmic horror lies out there…"
"Kill me now."
Silence.
"Otherwise…
"Piss off."
The stars offered no response.
I sighed.
Then continued.
One. Two. Three. Four.
…
At some point, I started talking out loud.
Not to anyone in particular. More just talking to myself: Commenting on planets, making observations.
Anything to fill the silence.
Because silence had become unbearable.
I was halfway through explaining why a distant gas giant looked vaguely like a potato when a voice interrupted me.
"That's the worst comparison I've ever heard."
I stopped.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
I turned.
A man floated beside me.
I stared.
He stared back.
Brown coat.
Messy hair.
Completely average.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I pointed at him.
"Where the hell did you come from?"
The man shrugged. "Been here a while."
"Don't lie."
"Fine. Just got here."
"Thought so."
I continued flying.
The man continued flying beside me. "You're taking this surprisingly well."
"You're the first person I've spoken to in..." I paused. "...Actually, I have no idea how long."
The man smiled. "Fair enough."
I pointed at him again. "What's your name?"
The man thought for a moment.
Then smiled.
"Picardi Cunthorpe."
"That's the fakest fake name I've ever heard."
"Coming from the guy naming planets Glassheart and Dull Lantern?"
"Don't like Glassheart? I think that sounds pretty cool."
Picardi snorted, "It sounds like a child made it up."
"Okay, Picardi, who are you?"
"I'm just wandering, space traveller. They call me Star-Surfer around these parts."
"Star Surfer?" I barked out a laugh, the first time in a long time, "Now that'sthe stupidest thing I've ever heard."
Picardi didn't say a word; he just looked at me, arms crossed all sassy-like.
"Don't give me that attitude. Where you from anyway?"
"Don't really know."
"You from Earth?"
"Not sure."
…
"You're very chatty."
"I'm Picardi Cunthorpe, A.K.A. Star Surfer, the Intergalactic Space Travelling Extraordinair. I've wondered these very cosmos for time immeasurable."
I stared.
"Extraordinair?"
"Yes."
"Spell it."
"E, X, T, R, A, O, R, D, I, N, A, I, R."
"Alright, alright."
Picardi pointed towards the stars ahead. "So what's your story, then?"
I hesitated.
Where do I even start?
"I got lost."
Picardi nodded.
"That obvious?"
"You've been staring at the same star for the last ten minutes."
I looked ahead. "...I have?"
"Yep."
"Huh." I hadn't noticed.
Picardi folded his arms behind his head. "So where are you trying to go?"
"Earth."
"Never heard of it."
"It's a planet."
"Most places are."
I groaned. "You're insufferable."
"And yet you're still talking to me."
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
Because he was right. For the first time in what felt like forever, the silence wasn't crushing me.
The stars drifted past.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Oddly enough, it wasn't awkward.
It was nice.
I looked sideways. "Hey, Picardi?"
"Yeah?"
"You ever get lonely out here?"
For the first time since I'd met him, his smile faded. He looked out into the darkness. At the endless stars. At the empty space between them.
Then he shrugged. "Sometimes."
I nodded. "Yeah."
For a while, we simply flew together. The stars drifted by.
I pointed at a distant system. "See that one?"
Picardi glanced over. "Yep."
"I reckon that one's got life."
"Why?"
"No reason."
"Good reasoning."
"I know."
We continued. Another star passed.
Then another.
At some point, I found myself talking more. I told him about Earth.
About university.
About Grossaint.
About Himiko.
About Krista.
He listened.
Occasionally nodding.
Occasionally grunting.
Mostly listening. It was nice. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed talking.
"...and then Tom punched this guy."
Picardi didn't reply.
I continued anyway.
"He deserved it, to be fair."
Still nothing.
"So then everything sort of spiralled out of control."
The stars drifted past, merging into single streams of light.
I laughed to myself.
"Actually, that's probably the best way to describe my life."
Silence.
I barely noticed.
I pointed ahead.
"You know, that nebula kinda looks like a fish."
No response.
"Actually no. More like a shoe."
Nothing.
"Maybe a fish wearing a shoe."
The universe remained silent.
I rubbed my chin. "Yeah. Definitely a fish wearing a shoe."
I kept talking.
About planets.
About home.
About things I wanted to do when I got back.
About things I wished I'd said.
The words just kept coming.
One after another.
After another.
After another.
Then eventually—
"...What do you think, Picardi?"
No answer.
I smiled.
"Yeah, fair point."
A few moments passed.
Then something about that felt wrong.
I blinked.
Slowly.
"...Picardi?"
I turned.
The space beside me was empty.
No brown coat.
No messy hair.
No Star Surfer.
Nothing.
Just stars.
My smile disappeared. "...Picardi?"
Silence.
I looked around.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Only distant galaxies.
Galaxies.
My eyes narrowed.
Galaxies?
I froze.
Slowly—
Very slowly—
I turned around.
The words died in my throat.
The Milky Way wasn't behind me.
It wasn't ahead of me.
It wasn't anywhere.
Around me stretched unfamiliar galaxies.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Spirals.
Ellipses.
Ribbons of light.
Every direction I looked, there were more.
And not one of them was home.
Not one.
"I'm…"
"Lost…"
I couldn't tell you a single name of any of these galaxies.
Were they even real?
Or is this a figmanet of my imagination…
"I'm..."
"Lost..."
I laughed.
A short laugh.
Then another.
"No."
I turned again.
The galaxies remained. Thousands of them. Unfamiliar. Silent.
"No, no, no…"
I spun around. Maybe I'd turned around somewhere. Maybe I'd missed it.
Maybe—
The Milky Way wasn't there.
I searched again.
Nothing. Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing.
The stars blurred.
My breathing quickened.
"Picardi?" No answer. "Picardi?"
Silence.
"Picardi!"
Nothing. The emptiness swallowed the word whole. I felt very small. Smaller than I'd ever felt before.
I couldn't remember a thing Picardi said.
Had he stopped talking? Minutes ago? Hours ago? Days ago?
I didn't know.
And that terrified me more than the galaxies.
"Picardi?"
Nothing.
Just me.
Only me.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
I looked again.
Nothing.
Another direction.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING.
"FUUUCKK!"
I darted to every star I could find.
"Earth, you there?"
Nothing.
"Earth?" No. "Krista?" No. "Grossaint?" No. "Tom?" No.
Nothing.
Endless galaxies. Galaxies I'd never seen.
I picked one.
Any one.
And flew.
The stars stretched around me.
I stopped beside a system.
Eight planets. None of them Earth.
I left.
Another. Five planets. No Earth.
Another. Two suns. No Earth.
Another. Another. Another. Another.
Nothing.
I wasn't searching anymore.
I was running.
Running from the silence. Running from the galaxies. Running from the possibility that I would never find home.
Faster. I flew faster.
The stars became lines.
Then ribbons.
Then rivers of light.
I didn't care. I just needed to find something.
Anything. Anyone.
The universe blurred around me.
And I kept going.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
I didn't even realise it. Didn't even see it.
The immense heat I felt was unlike anything else. For the single moment I passed through it, it felt as though my body was being boiled into liquid paste.
But I didn't.
I passed through.
I stopped and looked back.
A violet spear pierced a giant blue star. The core was open. I could see through it.
Through the star.
Through the wound I'd carved straight through its centre.
My breath caught in my throat.
What?
The star began to dim. At first, I thought I was imagining it. Then it dimmed again.
And again.
The enormous sphere slowly collapsed inward, shrinking before my eyes. Its brilliant blue glow faded as the wound through its centre widened.
What is—
The star continued shrinking.
Smaller.
Smaller.
Until the thing that had illuminated an entire solar system was little more than a brilliant speck against the darkness.
That can't be…
Then everything exploded.
Vibrant blue light erupted across the cosmos.
The shockwave raced outwards in every direction. For a brief moment it looked as though another galaxy had been born.
I couldn't stop staring, captivated by the horror, unable to utter a single sound.
Just stared.
Frozen.
Watching the death of a star.
Watching what I'd done.
Is this what God was talking about? Is this the monster they fear I might become?
The light grew larger and larger.
It swallowed the stars.
Swallowed the darkness.
Swallowed me.
I raised my arms to shield my face.
It burned. It hurt. More than anything I'd ever felt.
Then—
Nothing.
Warmth embraced my skin. The scent of lavender filled my nose, filling up my lungs with smooth air. The sensation was new. No. I'd felt it before. A long time ago.
It was oxygen.
My eyes opened, slowly.
Everything was bright, I placed my hand over my face.
It was my human hand.
I was no longer in that other form.
As my eyes adjusted, I could see the faded lavender sky. Not a single cloud hung amongst it. As I lifted myself up, my hand landed on a flower. I was surrounded by a field of blue flowers, purple grass, and yellow soil.
Is this another alien planet?
I looked up.
My eyes widened.
"What?"
That wasn't there before.
Among the lavender sky,
The Earth hung.
As if it were right above it.