Without bounds the black void resides over all, from edge to edge of the infinity, swallowing all life in a single bleak space devoid of its own light, a vacuum. That vacuum is only moderately beautified by the faint blues and purples of distant nebulas and white specs of faraway stars, although even those sources are so astronomically distant that to fathom ever reaching it was to earnestly choose an unlivable life, a paradox that would only conclude with the revelation of impossibility.
Far deep in the endless expanse where the unreachable edges only grow further, life proliferated on an unspeakable scale in innumerable galaxies, innumerable solar systems, innumerable planets, innumerable ecosystems. Every white dot in the black void is another collection of planets possibly harboring life, as even though life does very clearly not proliferate on all cosmic bodies the sheer quantity made it nearly impossible for there to be no other life beyond what is already here.
Yet inevitability all those possibilities were negligible for they were not ones that melded with the lives of the locality, and the lives so far away would never bestow their own paradises and devices to those only able to faintly see their stars. In effect, regardless of the enormous life that exists in the incalculable domain of the universe, effectively all was alone, and there was nothing. No matter what could be, nothing was. Ultimately, in the spectacular space was solely solitude.
In the domain of the cosmos where all entities are impossibly far to even study with true depth will drift one sole entity, shaped not as a shimmering star nor a shapeless nebula but rather the rigid and lightless form of a human.
Gliding through the vacuum with its arms stretched out leveled to its shoulder and its legs partly spread in a graceous cross, the entity will float in the darkness, its body primarily unlit but dressed in a jacket with a hanging hood, and on the top of its head bobs four thick strings.
It will move motionlessly, not flailing its arms, not thrashing its legs, for the silhouette won’t be clear whether or not it is conscious nor alive at all. No, it will only glide effortlessly past the faint blue nebulas ridden with gleaming white holes, alone in the utter silent cosmos, devoid of sound, devoid of current, devoid of warmth.
Meandering in the abyss like a still figurine, its body will remain a blank shadow from one end to another, like an abandoned doll roaming an ocean, never to be returned to its owner whom may weap its vanishing but no matter how many cries will never curl their fingers around the hands that once gave them comfort in a disorienting life of entropy and turbulence.
Through the first side, the umbra will drift further into the abyss, gliding to the other end beyond reach and sight, and only then when it reaches the other side is its figure faintly graced with light, illuminating the black leathery jacket and pale face in a cyan tint.
From all other directions in the eternal void are infinitely more stories shining white, for each individual angle of space viewed was an immensely minimal portion of the greater picture, not even a squint at the full perspective, as if staring through a telescope the wrong way. So much more there was, and even from a full orbital view of one point there was still effectively nothing explored, for there was just so much that with every slight glance a whole other infinity of stories were viewed past even if horribly skimmed.
Among the black cosmos are magnitudes more blue and purple nebulas embellishing what could’ve been a soulless canvas, and further glittering the rest of the said canvas are exceedingly grander quotas of uncountable sprinkles of white stars shimmering spectacularly to enhance the great beyond with their own infinite stories.
Within the abyss too are cosmic globes much closer than the specs of light, large enough to be detailed with white swirls over green pieces sitting over a blue base, and neighboring them are much smaller yet relatively grand gray rocky spheres orbiting intimately.
Far in the distance of one globe was another with its own accompanying rock, although between them is a vast distance that separates them into their own quarters, inhabiting their own bubbles to live freely yet coexist with so many other worlds.
Further into the infinity are more worlds with their own orbiting companions stretching for seemingly forever, shrinking smaller like the stars into small dots that have no end, not at least until reaching one globe far larger than the rest.
That globe, while a shade of blue, was not the same nor had the other colors but was rather an enormous cyan ball that gleamed light without bounds, shining on all of the planets orbiting its warm embrace. Its body is bright without contest, dense with alien energy that flashes and flickers.
For as uncountably many stories are there that can’t be told, for as unforgivingly grand numbers of lives that can’t be experienced from sheer distance from them, that does not simply signify that there is truly nothing of volume in reach, for that conclusion would be detrimentally false. An exaggerated statement of ineducation, even after the monumental filtration of what experiences can be felt in the universe, more than enough slips through and remains in the palms of possibility, as while it may not be even a sliver of the totality that exists that does not so simply translate into it being derisory.
Whereas there is very much unknown with unbound potentials, that however is not to say that what is known now is not a disappointment, far from, for even though the cosmos was immeasurable in possibilities there were still countless orbiting the same cyan sun, all within reach of anyone with standard devices.
While there is so much that could be, there was already so much that is. For even within grasp there was much left undiscovered, much unknown about home itself, wondrous possibilities minutes away with enough to feed centuries of exploration before even warranting a greater appetite for what lay beyond. There was much to see, much to experience, all within reach rather than needing to be carried to stars.
Just as there was so much wonder so close however, there were just as many if not more incalculable dangers.
In the black cosmos of the beautiful world, a single entity stood apart from the rest due to its own free mobility, gliding down the system in a relatively miniscule, sleek matte black body. It races past worlds in seconds, whooshing through planets in a straight line towards the general direction of the cyan supersun in the greatly far distance.
Beyond the black shell, the pod lacks any significant visual detail, for there are no decals, stickers, or even visible windows on the matte finish. Other than the slim and low shape, there was no distinguishable details, nothing to make it stand out in a crowd or anything to marvel at, but rather existed as so ordinary and without personality that it was senseless to gaze at it for more than a second as that second is enough to siphon all there was to experience from the outside shell.
Inside the pod, beyond the spotless black exterior, is the interior with crystal clear windows surrounding the soft black bench in the back and two black chairs in the front.
Inhabiting the back bench are two figures, one of a senile Japanese man with an astonished smile and gleaming yellow eyes which gazes at the windows, dressed in a brown overcoat, and beside him is a youthful Japanese woman with a riveted smile and shimmering pink eyes which gazes forth at the front of the vehicle, garnished in a white and pink hoodie with sprinkle decals.
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On the front right seat is a mature European woman with a content smile and calm light green eyes whose stare faces the room with a reclined seat, dressed in a black blazer over a white tank top. Finally on the left seat is a hoary man with a contemplative slight frown and dull blue eyes who stares straight ahead at the windshield with his back against the slightly forward leaning seat, covered in a grayed leather biker jacket.
At first the pod is silent, as each of the four are left with their own thoughts, having been on the move for not too long now. They were all still exhausted after the long day of packing, looking forward to a new adventure set on uneasy terms but nonetheless still exciting with a dose of optimism to look up with.
In the front of the pod past the driver is the windshield overlaid with an interface of blue holographic gauges which remain by the edges to keep the center tidy and clear.
All four continue to cruise along the silent abyss in the compact vehicle, and while firstly not a sound was made, that tranquility is brushed against by an exhausted moan from the woman at the front, whose seat reclines further back slightly more towards the old man behind her, who isn’t at all concerned as he doesn’t even notice.
Another few seconds goes by, allowing silence to reinhabit the vehicle as it initially appears the odd moan was a short lived rebellion that ceased right as it made itself known, allowing the equilibrium of peace to be met again.
Just when it seems peace would return, the same woman groans again, but this time even louder, almost like a child trying to subtly seek attention but in the most blatant move.
The attempt does catch the driver, who winces from the irritating groan, but manages to subside his pain to remain silent and attentive to the journey ahead of him, ignoring the prod as if he didn’t notice even though by his minor reaction he very much did.
After the two slight waves of sound wash over, the reclined seat is suddenly leaned forth as the woman’s body is thrown straight, and she faces the driver with an expression suddenly filled with anticipation through shining eyes.
With an exuberant face, she, Dana, rivetely inquires, “So, where are we headed first? Ooh, maybe we should go to Earth 36, it’s nice and so beautiful, I mean I could do with a little vacation! Besides, we’re nearing it anyways, so it’s not that far from here! Right? Right?!”
No longer able to maintain the act of ignorance, the driver disappointedly sighs as his eyes dwindle down, and reluctantly he answers, “Earth 36 has a relatively low population and due to its lack of natives there is less to blend into. Given the criteria for success, it would be a suboptimal choice. We need something more normal.”
After noticing the spark of a conversation the recipient had just washed out, the young woman in the back leans forward as she had been facing them prior, and with a bright smile she suggests, “Wait, why don’t we just make a giant energy bubble thing around the house so when he tries to come back, it disintegrates him! Or…well that’s a bit cruel…maybe just knocks him out?”
Before the driver can get a word out of his hanging mouth, the senile man also in the back faces the former speaker and thoroughly expounds with a raised finger, “Oh Kokei you sweet spring baby, his suit probably has some sort of energy-resistent material that makes it impossible to do something that easily!”
Again the driver tries to speak with a wider mouth, but not before the young woman in the back, Kokei, faces her friend and argues back, “Well, baka, how do you know? Are you suddenly an Exitium expert because you saw him once? Okay, I’ve read all the articles back in the day, I know my stuff. Meditat here tricked him with an energy trap before, I read it somewhere!”
Scrunching eyebrows, the driver tilts his head with a befuddled expression while the old man, Ekitai, debates back, “Well if he did, then clearly that wouldn’t work again. He’s psychotic, not stupid! I think…I mean…wait is he dumb? I’m just guessing based on my own intelligence, but I do also acknowledge that it is vastly more superior to the average life form, so maybe-.”
“Yes, he’s resistant to energy,” interjects the driver after having had enough of the odd banter which was only making the drive less tolerable.
Persistent as a self appointed advisor, Kokei then leans back and extends her thumb, pointer, and middle finger while curling the rest on her right hand similarly to the gesture of a gun, which she then aims around the pod recreationally with minor flicks while proposing, “Then why don’t you use that weird black thing you were shooting before, the one that imme-killed…er….imme-’defeated’ the Exhumans before? I mean I’m guessing it is what I think it is, don’t know how you got it the way it was but I guess I also shouldn’t be surprised! But yeah, why don’t you just shoot him and bam, I mean that would take away his powers, right? Like, forever?”
Another groan exemplifies the driver’s irritation before he formally rejects, “It’s Anti-Exmatter in an energy form, yes, and I already tried that on him. For some reason both of us are resistant to it, I’m sure there’s some intensity that would prove sufficient but I’ve never found that. Normally some Exhumans have abilities that can resist and counter Anti-Exmatter, which is why some of them need to be made vulnerable before their Keys can be destroyed and they lose the connection that provides them their abilities, but even in an unconscious state it never worked on him. Look, I understand your intentions in trying to give ideas, but to put it bluntly if you have an idea I’ve likely already had it too, and that means it doesn’t work. I’ve only been able to match him with…never mind. Anyways, the point is that we still need more time to plan, so for the time being we need to find a good hiding spot. So if any of you want to give useful ideas, that would be the right subject.”
A glimmering expression lights the face of Dana, who raises her finger and cheerfully advocates, “Ooh, I know, what about Earth thre-,” before her stomach suddenly rumbles like an earthquake, and similarly it crumbles her words at an instant and leaves her face in the ruins of despair.
A disingenuous grin covers up her shame along with wide eyes and shriveled pupils, and for a few seconds the pod returns to silence as she utters every curse made in the history of all hundred worlds in her own head while the driver’s expression remains unchanged.
In the back, Ekitai then all the sudden contemplatively mentions, “Huh…we never ate anything today…did we? I mean…we sort of just woke up…had a chat…packed everything up…and left.”
A glance is cast to Ekitai by Kokei, whose eyes shoot wide open in a fearful face before she makes the horrid confession with a shocked tone, “I didn’t pack any food! Shoot!”
“Me neither, I completely forgot,” appended Dana, her face even more ashamed as suddenly all their spirits had begun to tumble.
Then simultaneously, all three of the passengers turn their heads onto one man, the driver at the front, and they stare at him intently. Not a word is spoken, but no word needed to be, for just their devilish glares more than sufficed. They just stare for several excruciatingly long moments of awkwardness, staring down on the one man.
Ridden on the man’s soulless face with lifeless eyes hardly open, a slow descent into madness floods his body, and he takes in a deep breath which raises his chest, accumulating any strength he could reach for to cling onto any sanity left he could latch onto.
He then releases the breath through his nose as his mouth remains shut, slowly losing all that he had attained as no aid would support him in this battle, for once again he was a sole fighter facing off against an army. At this critical moment, there was no ally, no savior, no god to pull him out of the prison, but instead he was left abandoned in a cruel hell where his body would be torn apart and eaten by the denizens of the underworld, which all glare mercilessly at his fresh skin.
In moments like this, it simply felt inappropriate to have any optimism for anything. When has the world deserved to be viewed by such false filters? When ever were aspirations and hopes met by anything other than an unforgiving fist? Never, because that was the horrible, cruel, hopeless, brutal, unsympathetic, evil reality that would never loosen its tight stranglehold.
In a monotonous yet infinitely dreadful voice, the man grudgingly surrenders, “Fine, we’re going grocery shopping.”