Quiet. For the first time in longer than I can remember my mind is quiet. No life related panic, no emotional torment. Hell, not even a song stuck on an endless, mind numbing loop. How long has it been since I felt this content? Dear lord I honestly can’t remember ever being at peace with myself as much as now. I hope this lasts for a while, I’m really enjoying the peace. Maybe it’s this place?
Looking around I can’t remember how I got here, or even have an inkling of where here might be. OK, that’s not entirely correct, as I slowly turn around noticing the scene before me, there is only one thing this view reminds me of. The time we went to the planetarium and were shown a view of the solar system. Maybe this is some new VR suite? Either way, I feel it’ll be better for my sanity if I go with this analogy, even if everything seems to be below me. My rational brain is trying to panic but the uniquely human, the animal side of me has no interest in a panic attack now, so let’s leave that be. For now, let’s explore this place.
Right below me is the sun. A bright, white ball of light. For a second I was confused why it was so dark everywhere but then I realised, without an atmosphere it’s not like the light can bounce off of anything. Around it lazily, though noticeably, were what I’ll call the planets. It’s a bit confusing to call them that since they all look like a haze of light rather than actual rock. I mean, it would make sense for the outer gas giants but oddly enough they’re the ones that seem more solid. The “fog” surrounding them is still there but they have a much more solid core, if it can be called that. Most of them look the same, with one noticeable exception. The third planet from the sun was more than just a vague light. It was teeming with activity.
Moving closer to it I felt a moment of vertigo as the whole view shifted. Now the planet was at my eye level, the sun to my left. Moving away from me I followed it on it’s race around its orbit. Unlike the others the surface was wild with movement. In fact, every now and again a small firework of light would shoot out of it and fly away into the darkness beyond. I tried following one but I couldn’t keep up with it. When I looked back I felt a moment of shock as I saw the sun so far behind me. While still clearly the dominant light in the endless tapestry I could now see others around it. They were much further than it but all seemed to be moving roughly in the same direction. For a moment I contemplated heading to one of the other stars. I quickly went back though after that moment I realised I might not be able to find my way back. Somehow that made me uneasy.Besides, I wanted to see more of the little lights on Earth. I was starting to get an idea of what was going on.
As I stood behind what I was now dubbing Earth I focused my view on swarming lights. Billions of yellow, almost blindingly bright dots spread all across the planet. New ones kept blazing into existence at an astounding speed while others faded. Some of those slowly dimmed and vanished, others seemed to swirl franticly and pop out of existence. Some of the fading ones, I’d say one in a few thousand, though honestly it’s impossible to tell with how many actually did, would shine brightly right before fading and shoot out. One headed straight for me and as I hastily got out of its way I noted something off with the perspective. It’s size didn’t change at all when coming towards me, nor did it change when it rushed into the void. It simply was there one moment and gone the next. I wonder...
I can’t tell how long I’ve been watching the spectacle of light before me. I’m not thirsty nor hungry. Don’t really feel any pressing needs at all, in fact I can’t really feel my body at all. I find it slightly odd that thought isn’t scaring me but at the same time rather comforting. I never felt like that while in my body so... No big loss there I guess. Anyway, for a while now I’ve been noticing an exciting change.
At first I thought they were the ones who flew off, but I was wrong. More and more of the yellow fireflies have been gathering above the planet. It took a while but they created their own little swarm circling their world of origin. Every now and then several of them would slowly fly away, always roughly in the same direction. It wasn’t until one of the groups returned that I took to the overview realising they weren’t just getting away. Oooh, that’s a Hoffman transfer, came the unbidden thought. Once a nerd, always a nerd I guess. Regardless, the logic was sound, at least in terms of physics. I could see the tiny groups of fireflies move towards what I’ll be dubbing Mars on a curved trajectory. I followed one of the groups all the way but all they did was stay there for a few seconds at most and flew back, me right on their heels.
Several flashes, so quick I’m not sure they happened. They must have though since no fireflies were left where I thought I saw them. The empty spaces really stand out now, also the lights seemed to fade out faster than before, at least for a while. I’d like to focus on one, follow it’s whole existence but even now there’s so much it’s nigh impossible to track one. They did stop moving so much though.
Back to normal now. The empty spaces are full of fireflies again, there’s a steady stream of them heading to the fourth planet. The ones orbiting Earth are their own little spherical swarm. Let’s call it a lunar colony. For a while now, in fact, there’s been some moving further out into the system as well as towards the inner planets. I think it’s good. There’s so many of them on Earth now it’s impossible to separate them.
Some time later I returned to my original position overlooking the whole system. There were fireflies surrounding almost every planet now creating a breathtaking display of motion. Especially around what I assumed to be the gas giants. Only a few of the fireflies touched the core and even then barely and for a few seconds. But around them... Like the myriad moons around Jupiter and Saturn, varying sized swarms would circle their respective planets in a cacophony of orbits. It was truly beautiful.
Right up until it wasn’t. I’d probably still be unsure of what happened if not for my position overlooking everything. Countless flashes, then darkness. Some swarms disappeared completely. Others were horrendously diminished. Even the original Earthen ones were barely left. I guess it’s a good thing they spread out. At least they don’t seem to be winking out quicker. In fact, if I’m not wrong the colour seems to deepen. Still yellow just... Heavier, somehow.
Their population seems back to what it was before. Their colours gained some variety. The yellow ones, now all with that heavy feel to them, are still there. Some, however gained swirls of other colours, greens, browns, blues. Some are even inverse, especially green ones with a dash of yellow. Truly fascinating, though not the most astounding development.
The fireflies apparently learned to teleport in some fashion. I didn’t notice at first as between all the movement a handful vanishing wasn’t anything unusual. It wasn’t until I noticed the movement between the different swarms getting steadily less and less that I looked into it. I went to one of the gas giants and tried to focus on the movement between the moons there. And finally I realised that the lights would fly out of the swarm, do a circle or two around it and when they were facing their destination... Poof, and they would appear around another swarm. Soon enough the only places where they would fly normally were the few swarms between the planets. Not to them, but no lights seem to jump from there.
I don’t know how long I spend just moving between the different swarms. I enjoyed watching the motion, the variety in colours. Sometimes I would follow a specific group or light. Sometimes I would just let my vision unfocused and kind of... Experienced, the whole thing. I’ve no idea how long it was, hours at least. Nothing has really changed during that time. The colours got mixed some more, the greens and browns now had dashes of blue in them as well. Some of them, though not many, also gained the gravitas of the yellows. I realised they stay alight much longer now, I suppose that’s a result of the heaviness. Since they exist longer, they seem more real somehow.
A new development. One of the smaller moons around Saturn started blinking blue. A vivid, electric blue. At first I thought the swarm would vanish, as they did with the flashes before. However, this was different. A network of lines would blaze into existence, seemingly under and around the fireflies, shine for a few moments and blink out. It kept happening for a good while, now also amongst other swarms.
I might have done something I shouldn’t. For the first time in forever I feel slightly uneasy. After several dozen “lightning storms” on one of the moons I tried touching it. When I tried it before with the fireflies it had no effect, on me or the fireflies. This time was different though. As the network lit up again I reached out to it and felt a jolt. Incomprehensible numbers swam through my vision. For a moment it seemed as all motion around me stopped, the numbers vanished replaced by darkness streaked with blue lightning. Then I felt the most overwhelming sense of confusion I ever experienced. Somehow I knew it wasn’t mine. I moved back and as my vision returned to normal the blue light stayed on, now with a dash of yellow streaking through it every now and again. Wherever it did, the blue light would strengthen back up. I’ve no idea what this means, though theories storm through my mind now. I hope I didn’t break something. I’ll keep my hands to myself now, though the whole experience was somewhat reinvigorating. My thoughts feel more... Real. Like waking up and slowly piecing together the parts of a dream and how different it feels from daylight thoughts.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Not long after that experience all other swarms had their own mesh of lightning. It’s been many orbits now and everything seems fine. Some of the blue networks have other colours swirling through them, especially on Earth and Mars. Unlike the fireflies, these I can count. At most two for every “moon swarm”, and about a dozen on the two main worlds each. The lightnings are much different from the fireflies. While the feeling of their light is the same they seem somewhat unchanging. Sure, there is movement inside them but I’ve not seen any of them disappear or fly away. This is quite unlike the fireflies which now, with how many there are are a veritable fireworks display of blinking in and out, flying and blinking between the different swarms and jetting off into the deep. I don’t feel I could ever get bored of watching this.
The planets are dimming. I noticed a steady move of lights from the outside towards the inner system. At first I thought nothing of it, movement between the swarms was nothing new after all. What did however change was the last planet. It didn’t have as many, nor as populous swarms as the others but it was still a steady, unchanging haze circled by the swarms and lightning networks. Then, within what seemed like minutes all the fireflies started circling the core and blinking out towards Saturn and Jupiter leaving only the meshes around. Meshes, which then moved to form a equidistant circle around Neptune's haze... And seemingly ripped it apart. The haze that was there before was now gone. The blues moved back towards where the core was and seemed to spread out connecting into one network. That shape then moved, incredibly slowly, towards the inner system. For a while I was worried I was going to see the huge line start damaging the others but its flight seemed to take it far from any of the others. It finally, I don’t know how long after, stopped on the other side of the sun from Earth. Looking from above it seemed to be in a similar orbit too.
Oh. My. God. I was so focused on the first line that I didn’t notice the other cores being ripped apart. It’s done now, none of the planets remain. In their place is now what I can only call a Dyson Ring. Breathtaking doesn’t even begin to describe it. So massive that the single fireflies are barely visible under the network of the blue lightnings and sheer size of the structure. I tried looking in closer but it’s still hazy, much like the planets were, though less so. What I could notice was that all the fireflies spread around the Ring, the lightning meshes were now more numerous and larger. In fact, thanks to their apparent nature I had a good idea of the size of the whole structure. Three times as wide as Earth, about half as deep. I tried to comprehend the engineering, energy and resource needs of such a structure being built in the real world but my mind kept blanking. I was never great with big numbers but these would be just... Well, astronomical.
Yet another development. The lightning network started to pulse out of the ring. It almost looks like tentacles, or tendrils of a jellyfish. They flail out of the ring, moving erratically then dissipate not long after. Due to the last experience of contact I steered well clear of any of them. Lucky for me it was noticeable where it would shoot from as the light would seem to brighten there so I did my best to be on the other side of the Sun, or at least the Ring. Some of them reached far, far into the void before disappearing so I made a note not to try dodging away. It seemed like hours before the tendrils finally stopped. I kept a close watch, but it seemed I could resume focusing on the fireflies.
In fact, I focused so closely on one that I managed to see its entire lifespan. I was as close as I dared to the Ring when a spark caught my attention as it blinked into existence.Because in most places the density of the swarms was now much, much smaller than on the planets I had no problem following this one. It didn’t move much from where it first spawned so for the most part I only needed to follow the slow rotation of the Ring. I haven’t noticed, probably because I couldn’t focus so well on a single firefly before, but after a while another one joined it. I’d love to say I saw it before, but truthfully they all seemed almost indistinguishable and it took all my focus to not loose track of my subject of study. What was new information was that they fireflies seemed to join together. They were still distinct individual lights, but there seemed to be a faint glow connecting them. Even when separated I could see the link. Not long after that, a new firefly came into existence between the others. Its colour seemed a mix of the other two and the connection between both of its parents, for lack of better term, was as strong as between the others. I only noticed the colour aspect of it because my original subject had an emerald tint to it, something that was also visible in the new one. There was much less of it though, hence my epiphany about the others being parents. Life. Life that soon came to an end as I watched the firefly slowly dim, then swirl away into nothing, followed shortly after by its partner disappearing in the same manner.
I spent a while after this exploring the interconnected networks between the fireflies. They weren’t as robust or uniform as the blue lightning. But still there. Now that I knew what to look for I could see each firefly was connected to many others, some more some less. Sometimes the bonds broke, new ones formed. Trying to focus my view on these it almost seemed like they were all connected, if vaguely.
Disaster struck. I was looking over the Ring, thinking of what to focus on next when I noticed a bright red light at the edge of the system. Curious, I moved there and found a sight I’ve not seen before. A dizzyingly compact mesh of red lightning almost like a rubber band ball, surrounded by thousands, if not millions, of similarly red fireflies. All of them were connected to the centre by a thick, bright red streak. They seemed to linger on the outer edges of the system for a while, right until the fireflies and lightnings reached them. I knew it was bad news the second the first firefly blinked into existence in front of the newcomers. As it got closer I though I saw one of the links they had between each other reach out the the red mass. Soon as it touched, one of the peripheral fireflies flew straight at it. Just as it reached it, the yellow firefly disappeared.
Next came a tendril from the ring. This one more akin to a laser beam as it didn’t flail around but simply shot straight for the red ones. As soon as it connected a red ripple shot through it back to the Ring. I have no idea if it reached it or not as the beam disappeared almost as fast. In the same instant the entire swarm beelined for the Ring.
I can’t decide if the ensuing fight was the most beautifully terrifying thing I saw, or the most terrifyingly beautiful thing. The fireflies, the lightnings and, what I now call, the locusts fought for what seemed like hours. As soon as the swarm reached the Ring flashes of light and patches of darkness spread. Immeasurable numbers of the creatures vanished, new ones taking their place in the conflict. Red dots spread all over the Ring, wherever they showed up – destruction followed. The heart of the locusts, now attached to the ring like a blood ruby, seemed to slowly spread its influence. Right up to the point where it, I assume, blew up.
I can’t really say what caused it other than it was the fireflies. Kind of. It looked like the locusts were winning, while their number didn’t grow as fast as the fireflies each one was clearly more powerful than their counterpart, firmly linked to their network they snuffed out a hundred of the fireflies each. As I carefully moved around the structure I noticed a bastion of the original inhabitants. A circle of fireflies and lightnings so thick it reminded me of the times before the ring. In its centre was a much smaller group fireflies, but no lightning. A single red dot appeared among them, but never connected to the heart. One of them finally reached out and when it did the entire conflict seemed to focus on that location. Then, one after the other, the fireflies in the centre changed. Changed, into a lightning. Bright, almost iridescent yellow, it shot out through the network of blues around the Ring towards the red heart. As soon as it reached the locusts heart, it gathered itself together around it. Then, like a den of constrictor snakes it squeezed.
Instantly after the yellow lightning attacked all the red links vanished. A new fervour seemed to enter the fireflies and lightnings as they descended on the locust locations. Just as I was about to take a relieved breath, thinking they prevailed, a shudder went through the Ring. Then it started to crack. It took minutes for it to crumble all around, with more fireflies and lightnings vanishing than even during the conflict. Entire sections went almost completely dark. Then, just as I was loosing hope I noticed something I’ve not seen in a while. A planetary haze. Not as strong as the ones before, and having a clear blue tinge, but there. It slowly spread around the now shattered Ring and seemed to stabilize it. Islands of fireflies and locusts seemed to form. Over the next hours, though honestly thinking that I now realize my sense of time is completely out of whack, their erratic motions stabilized. It seemed the haze was responsible as, unlike the original ones which were just there, this one twisted and coiled and turned. Following the currents it was obvious the islands of lights flowed alongside them.
While small enclaves of the locusts remained amidst the fireflies, several islands of them as well, things seemed to calm. The number of fireflies was paltry compared to even the time they lived solely on their first world, but they seemed to slowly grow. A number of times an island of them would flow close to a locust one and conflict would resume. Not always though. Curious, I looked in closer (though still a fair distance away, I was honestly afraid of them) and realised that only the islands where all the dots were connected to a brighter one in the centre attacked the fireflies. The other, more peaceful colonies seemed to have links similar to the fireflies, scattered between different members.
Most noticeable was how few lightnings remained. Unlike before, there was maybe two dozen of the large ones left. Spread out in a patchy network, with visible gaps between and on the islands, some completely untouched even, it looked like a spiders web that barely survived a rainstorm. All of them also had more noticeable streaks of yellow, green and brown. In some places there were even tiny networks where brown and green were dominant colours. Never yellow though.
As I moved around the Shattered Ring, fascinated by this new reality for the fireflies I lost myself in the tentative tranquillity of this exploration. With slight trepidation I delved into the haze, weaving between the different island, like a fish amongst coral or a bird between tree branches. Feeling secure as nothing happened I moved closer to the islands. Not noticing this before I realised most of them were not only moving in an orbit around the sun but also around their own axis. Just as their orbits this movement seemed stable but varied. I also noticed the fireflies congregating more and more with others similar to their own colour. By the time I finished a full circle some groups were almost entirely uniform, while others were a dizzying mix.
I steered clear of where the locust heart was. I had no desire to interact with it. I’m no coward, but I’m also not a fool. I was pretty sure my only noticeable interaction with the lights had helped spawn the lightnings. Unless of course it’s my ego talking. Well, that or it’s a results of this, now almost painfully obvious, psychotic break. Actually... OK, how Did I get here? Let’s think what’s the last thing I can remember from befo-o.... Oh.
Oh. Right. I hung myself.