Black smoke and ash filled the skies of the dying world, as ancient forests burned. Past the billowing clouds, the accretion disk bisecting the sky marked the threshold of a starless void. The black hole loomed like an impassive eye, or an all-consuming mouth; maybe that was why someone had named it the Voiceless Scream.
Doing her best to stifle existential dread, she responded, “Beats serving soup on Motherlode any day!”
“I hear that,” Umi chimed in, clomping past them in an identical hazcon suit, a transparent crate under one arm. Inside the box, small reptilian creatures mewled, shedding scales in anxiety. Did they know they were the last of their kind?
Turning to follow, Alther consulted her logbook. “If those are the… Derth Drakonids, then we’ve got everything we need. Let’s shake a leg.”
“Care to say a few words, old man?” Umi asked Drace as the three of them marched back to the ARK lander. Alther could practically hear the smirk in his words.
“Sure, uh…” there was a pause, and Alther assumed Drace was searching for an appropriate wisecrack. As the cargo door began to close behind them, she was surprised to hear him say in a sombre tone, “Entropy is a b****, but I believe it is preferable to stasis. That’s why we will not mourn your loss, Forsaken Eighty, but rather celebrate that you existed at all. Goodbye.”
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