GuNNhead

There is a deep rumbling that echoes throughout the dreadnaught. A gathering of vast power outside. Then, a tremendous silence. I make my way to one of the viewports, but there isn’t much spectacle to witness. We are on our way outwards, to older galaxies, birthed before mine. Though I continue to feel the pull of the center within me. Every so often, a rumble. Caught by another cannon. Silence for calculations. Another rumble, launched. Silence.

I use this time to read more in The Network’s database. I wonder if my power could match their technology, travel through the universe itself, if only I knew how. The way these “cannons” utilize the gasses of the Intergalactic Medium to transverse galaxies is not well understood from what I’ve been able to grasp in my reading so far in The Network’s database, perhaps like the old lack of consensus of aeroplane’s lift, though I never had much care to learn all of the details. Of course, they could also be keeping the secret for themselves. They have, after all, never encountered another trans-galactic system of connections, or even a unified galaxy able to explore beyond its own Galactic Barriers. At least according to the database.

With further reading, I discover that, at the time of discovery, The Prophets were the most aligned in their ambitions that The Network had discovered. Though, even they were still in their infancy in terms of developing the right technology to achieve those goals. The Prophets were pariahs in their home galaxy, they did not have the resources or support their vision, but once they had The Network’s database, they were able to unite their home with The Network, and pursue their Prophecy. Saviours of the universe, following The Guide. Nothing accessible can really describe The Guide, however. It reads as more of a path than a central entity that provides them with information.

As a token of appreciation for their commitment in aiding in the exploration and unity of their home galaxy, The Prophets were offered an opportunity to travel to new galaxies. Their assistance helped build their galaxy’s Trans-Galactic Cannon, after all. Since The Network sends out many reconnaissance drones to so many new galaxies, they surmised that having The Prophets helping in diplomacy and unity for just a single galaxy would be a unique opportunity to study how this would influence The Network’s data gathering. They were a friendlier face than The Network, after all, and it was all in service of uniting the universe through knowledge and peace. And so of the countless drones sent out from The Prophets’ home galaxy, they followed one as directed by The Guide. In that next galaxy, Prophecy was proven, it was united and the cannon built. Prophecy after prophecy would be proven, and so they would follow to another, and another, continually following “The Guide”.

Over the course of their association, the word of The Prophets would spread along their path, from engaging in minor diplomacy in individual star systems to even recruiting some of the galaxies’ own to their ranks. These galaxies were the fastest spreading thanks to the prophets, and it kept growing, proving time and time again that The Guide, whatever it was, was correct. Perhaps some sort of timeline of the universe, able to predict the future, and place events. It is the one path in which The Network tolerated conflict against those who violently reject The Network.

Not very interesting reading, all in all, but with the time passed we have finally made it through the cascade of Trans-Galactic Cannons, and are now in the first galaxy to hold the fruit of that which The Prophets search. Now what did they say it was again? I’m sure they’ll announce it with another feast.

Aboard The Prophet’s galactic dreadnought, we approach the edge of my galaxy. I look back at it and feel nothing. From this vantage I can clearly see the empty space devoid of stars from when I used the Graviton Infinitus in my first attempt to destroy Kænus. To think, all my power, all my rage at that point in time, 5% of all solar systems were erased… I would be much more precise now. And be able to destroy the entire galaxy.

At the Galactic Cannon, I head to the front observation deck. While large, for a device designed to send objects between galaxies through the Intergalactic Medium, its design is not all that impressive. Sort of just a big tube. With four rows of three fins to adjust direction and aim. Toward the middle, between the spacing of the fins, are eight bulbous protrusions. Stored within those are stars, harvested for power. The Network certainly knows what they’re doing.

Once the dreadnought is loaded into the cannon, all that is left to do is wait while it makes the calculations required. We’re lucky in that there’s another Cannon to catch us in the next galaxy, our future destinations once we’re further out will take much longer to calculate for a craft of this size. Especially since these were designed for an expanding universe. Once we complete our first mission after daisy-chaining multiple Cannons to our destination, we may end up being shot into a super massive black hole at the center of a galaxy, or overshooting one entirely by innumerable light-years.

Vokrssel approaches me having barely aged. His species’ life span is exponentially greater than most. He places his hand on my shoulder and begins to orate at me in his wizened way. He tells me of his time in other galaxies, his contact and cooperation with The Network, and concludes with a focus on this galaxy; how the large majority of new recruits from here are terrified of me. Their parents raised them with stories of how I would get them if they misbehaved. I replied that that’s better than being hated, as the previous crew members I had met despised me with religious fervor after my body rejected the Gold Leaf Spirit Cheesecake, and besides, I would kill this crew or anyone else in the cosmos for far less than misbehaving. Understanding my point, he thanks me for joining them in their prophesied quest. That my aid will be invaluable towards the goal of saving, restoring the universe. I walk away from the conversation, and wait out the remainder of the calculations aboard my ship.

That night we address all of Loameria in a large, crowded arena. Giant screens project the image of the stage where I stand among the Heroes of Loameria and the Prophets of the Last Eclipse. The Prophets make their path known, outline the collapse, and distribute assurances. The heroes, particularly the Golden one, continue with assurances, while building a fond farewell to myself and my time there. Triumphs, personal stories, talk of inspiration and growth. A hope for the future and a glowing warmth for the past. Tales of histories and first encounters. Then, following a chorus of applause, I begin my parting words:

“You will all die. You think that having offspring, prolonging your legacy is a purposeful endeavour, but you will all die, they will die, their descendants will die, and it will have no meaning or purpose. It will simply be a part of how things work, a wheel in a great machine that was never built, and that will never have purpose, but will simply keep going on and on without you, never noticing the loss.

You living beings, one of whom I used to be, your lives are ephemeral. I can interpret how to relate to you, but I can no longer truly do so. I cannot remain here pretending. It is time to allow death to take you all with time. Life, here, is possible for me no longer. I once left this planet as a mortal, and died in space, returning only as what you see before you. The living have not changed. I have changed, for I can see through actions, and their transparencies. I know that you all have the ability to delude yourselves into enjoying the life you have. With that, I breathe a sigh of relief without requiring breath.

I am a being of entropy, I will exist as long as this universe exists, as long as the very forces of nature exist. The universe is collapsing, and I am called out into stars. Though your deaths will not be my hand, take comfort in the fact that the forces that impel me to exist, that drive me to death, will also be your end. Each day as your entropy accumulates, you will age, and this will lead to your death. The same forces that cause the suns to rise and the planets to spin will lead to your death. There is a drive within me that compels me to grant you all you maximum entropy, but I will not, I will allow you all to reach such a pinnacle on your own. You will all die.”

With that, I leap into my craft, which is now hovering above the stadium. I pilot it into the Prophet’s planetary-sized ship.

That night there is a grand feast on the Prophet’s ship. Knowing that my body rejects their Spirit food of life essence, I do not eat with them. Instead I wander, and remember the time I was here, trained and honed these powers for the first time, fought and won a holy war. After their celebrations, I have a discussion with the Golden One. She is radiant and glowing, infused with life, her body did not react as mine. I tell her that I am unsure what will happen to my Gravity Barrier once I leave this galaxy, as leaving this dimension distorted it. It may dissipate, removing her power and potentially killing her as the power leaves her body. She recounts the story of how she too gained the powers of the Gravity Surge, the experiment had collided with my barrier while I was in the Hellish Dimension, a dimension made from the collective unconscious of this galaxy. With this in mind, she along with the other heroes have created a theory that may free her of the Gravity Barrier. They had never shared it with me, as it would require completely dis-incorporating the barrier, which they believed I would never do as it would once more leave Loameria exposed and open to attack. It would also require that I relinquish the powers of the hellish dimension that I had gained, something they could never ask. She explains that she was ready to die the day she became a Gravity Surge, and is still prepared to meet her end.

The next day we are at the barrier, heroes of Loameria and all. We attempt the experiment, placing one hand each upon the barrier, and one hand each in the other’s grasp. I begin by transforming into Hellish Form, and start transferring its power to her. Then, we begin to erase the barrier. Her golden armor flakes and cracks, dissolving into nothing; her body protected from the cold of space only by hellfire. As the barrier vanishes and the final bit of Hellish Force leaves my body, it is clear that the experiment failed. Her lifeless body drifts out past where the barrier once was. Angelguard goes to collect it but is knocked back by streaks of electricity emanating from it, crashing into her ship. I look back to Golden, and see her eyes open revealing their lack of pupils, her skin goes grey and dead like mine as well. But as her armor forms in bright outlines, the white of her eyes turn red, and electric hellfire erupts into an explosion. I crash into Diamandis, the outer most planet of the Loamerian star system, with a demonic claw at my neck. I am able to break free of her grasp, but it is clear that she can not yet control the powers of the Hellish Dimension. As we exchange blows, it also becomes clear that she is still a Gravity Surge, though to what extent? I pummel her into the icy surface until I surmise an approximation. Only a galaxy of power is still enough to destroy everything here. Soon the others arrive, and with their preparations were are able to subdue her. Before long, the powers of the Gravity Surge take control, and she regains her faculties. Her skin returns to normal, though her eyes remain red. Her armor, now altered and more of a rose gold. All in all, a complete success.

Before I am able to make my departure toward the center, Loameria receives a visitor. They cast a shadow upon the downtown core with their planetary sized base. This must be important to them to not simply send an orbiter. The others and I are there to greet their shuttle as they land. Out steps Vokrssel, still their leader after all these years, with a handful of his fellow head Prophets. After their greetings, it is here that they explain their discoveries. The stated goal of the Prophets of the Last Eclipse has always been to prevent the end of the universe as they have foreseen it, to this end they have fought many wars, seeking artifacts thought to aid in that mission. To this end they have been studying neutron stars and black holes since before The Network arrived in my galaxy. To them, the time has also come to leave this galaxy. However, their path first goes outward, to older galaxies with more opportunities for study and technologies yet undiscovered here. Using astronomical weighing, The Network’s data, as well as their own studies into the collapse, they have determined a route that is almost sure to finally discover the true artifacts of history that may one day save the universe. They have already scheduled the use of the only known thing that can allow a ship to transverse the Intergalactic Medium, a Galactic Cannon, and are only missing one thing before they can consider themselves fully prepared: The Gravity Surge.

The Golden one immediately states that her place is here, before looking at me an apologizing.
“True, Loameria is my home, but I no longer belong here. Though I am thankful I was able to relive it in many ways, this place, and it’s people are your home, Golden One.”
“So does this mean that you’ll–“
“However, the center is what calls to me, not the outer reaches. I can feel them drawing nearer as we speak. I will not travel by your side, Prophets.”

They further explain the logistics of their course, based upon how far The Network has expanded its Galactic Cannons, rate of collapse, universal spin, plus the effort and coordination required to create new Cannons. Adding in that the second half of their travels does necessitate going to the center, once their theoretical artifacts are found. According to them, they would still make it to the center of the universe before I would if I attempted the journey on my own. I check to see if my more intellectually inclined allies are convinced by their calculations; they are. I still believe that if I truly desired to, I could simply will my way towards the center faster than those cannons, Network be damned, I have the entire energies of the universe at my disposal. However, I simply don’t care enough, a meager pull towards the center, an inkling of a feeling during a collapse is to be expected for one with my powers. Every single wave and particle in existence is being pulled toward the center.

“I accept.”