The Nebula & The Void


He looked into the void and the void screamed back.

Blackness speckled with a few stars was how he had always imagined traveling through the vastness of space. Before any campaign he would picture, from his position on the ship's bridge, a 270 degree view of a silent depth, the blackness occasionally interrupted by the mass of a gas giant growing to dominate his vision.

Smeared across the charcoal canvas was something alive, breathing its gaseous paints into every inch of black; a myriad of pastels bleeding into one another.

This nebula was in the process of creating. And at the same time eviscerating everything. Stretched out for hundreds of light years, the ship's readouts showed him it was far from silent. All he could do was watch and feel as the mile long gas explosion reached out and through him.

He wondered if, in the silence of space beyond the bubble of the ship, there would be any sound. He wondered if his eardrums would split from the gas and light storm heading towards him as it ripped through metal and glass.

Then, as if in relief, he sighed at the thought that the mass would reach him years before the sound ever did.

He looked into the void. And the void obliterated him.


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