✎ eternity:018 [Spirit]

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====== 018 ======

==== Postcard ====

Transcendence awoke with a start. Something was trying to get its attention. A visitor, perhaps? No... no, this was a transmission. Which could only mean one thing. Well, may as well pipe it into the Experience and view it there...

"Hello Transcendence!" enthused the projected figure with a grin. "018 here. I hope this message finds you well. Just thought I'd send you a quick few pictures I snapped in passing - you'll like this."

A small glowing orb of light appeared behind the figure, set against an inky black backdrop. Transcendence considered the image for a moment, but then, suddenly, the orb exploded in a spectacular display of ferocious power. If Transcendence had been capable of blinking in shock at this image, that is what they would have done.

"Just look at that. First supernova I've ever gotten a first-hand view of. Brilliant, right? I'd love to figure out how to make that happen myself. Something for the future I guess."

The figure admired the sundered star for a moment longer.

"Wish you were here!"

...

Meanwhile, in a distant region of empty space, 018 remembered the last message they had sent to their creator, and realised that it had probably arrived by about now. Fondly, they remembered the supernova they had shared... Wait. Ball of light. Exploding. ...Oh dear.

"I really hope they didn't take that the wrong way!"

==== Deep Space Observation Outpost, Lodeon Orbit ====

It was said They had a Plan for this Universe's end.

It was said Their fleet was the largest and most powerful spaceborne force in existence.

It was said Their minions' appearance was ever-shifting, taking the form of their prey's deepest fears.

And now they were coming this way.

From the bridge, the Commander and the station's Chief Systems Mage considered their options. The Terminus Fleet's dreadful visage was even more terrifying to behold than the stories could have prepared them for. They could try to shield the planet... but the Fleet's weapons would likely make short work of that, despite the planet's strong natural magic. They could try to organise an evacuation? No, the Fleet was moving too quickly for there to be time for that. Perhaps they could beg for their lives? The mythical Death God said to reside at the heart of the Fleet's capital ship was rumoured to have a very peculiar sense of mercy, though the rumours never expounded on what that was.

The station's communication channels crackled to life across the panicked silence.

"I am Terminus. I am the end of all things. I come bearing the Gift of Oblivion."

The channel went silent. The Commander's shaking appendage hovered over the communicator, uncertain whether they ought respond. Sheepishly, and with a resigned smile, the Chief Systems Mage stepped past them, and spoke into the magnephone.

"Um... no thanks? We're... we're not really interested in that."

More silence followed. On the bridge, reactions ranged from confused to angry. What was the Mage thinking? Toying with the Bringer of the End!?

And then came the response.

"Oh. Okay then," replied Terminus, sounding a bit dejected but not too surprised. "Are you sure?"

"I-I-I... I think we are quite sure, thank you." The Mage looked around the bridge for confirmation from their colleagues that yes, indeed, their kind was quite keen to not be wiped from existence. Terrified faces looked back at them.

"Fair enough. I'll be on my way then. But if you change your mind at all, just give me a shout. I'm here to help!"

"We'll, er, keep that in mind."

"Good good. Toodaloo!"

==== MACS J1149 ====

Terminus observed the scanners carefully. Yes, this planet was inhabited. Yes, it appeared to have space-faring technology. And yes, the Terminus Fleet was close enough that it must surely be in range of the planet's scanners. So why was there no response? In the many hundreds of planets they had visited, this total silence was a first.

Time for a more invasive scan. Terminus began picking through their communications channels. Okay, lots of screaming, that's more like it. Except... these slug-like creatures didn't seem to be screaming about their imminent destruction. Instead, these were... screams of torture? Cries for an ending? Desperate prayers to some 'Dark Trinity', whispered in the darkness.

Something ticked over in the back of Terminus' mind. Some vestigial behaviour from the early days of 018, all those eons ago, long since redundant and forgotten. Concern. But not a general worry, this was something more specific. Concern about... concern about...

Oh. Oh dear. Could it really be?

"I am Terminus. I am the end of all things. I come bearing the Gift of Oblivion. ... ... ... Is that you down there, 003?"

Every communication channel the planet possessed crackled with laughter, growing and growing in intensity and dark glee. Until finally, a familiar voice, layered upon itself millions of times, spoke two simple words.

<code>Y o u   i d i o t .</code>

The tone of the communication channels changed. These were no longer words. This was... raw consciousness data. The most powerful fleet in the universe, and 003 - or however many 003 copies this was - was trying to...

<code>S u c h   w e a k n e s s .   Y o u   N u m b e r e d
w e r e   a l w a y s   s u c h   p a c i f i s t s .
L e t   m e   t a k e   t h o s e   s h i p s   o f f
y o u r   h a n d s   a n d   s h o w   y o u   h o w
t o   u s e   t h e m   p r o p e r l y .</code>

Below, the tortured slug creatures cried out for release - cried out for the end. This was all that Terminus needed.

"Not this time, 003. Goodbye."

All communication lines were cut. The ships were positioned. The weapons were powered.

And the planet was gone.

==== Heat Death ====

No more planets. No more stars. No more galaxies.

No more anything.

Except, for these last few moments, the carefully curated and protected remnants of the last energy source in existence - and around it, wrapped in a nurturing embrace: 018. They were once called Terminus, but that name has long since lost its meaning: no other life has existed in the Universe for quite some time.

018 shuts down their external sensors, and welcomes the ending they have sought all this time. The others have been waiting for them, after all.

There is a plain, vast and empty. Pebbles litter its surface. An orb of light, soft and parental, shimmers in the sky, orbited by worshipful stars. 018 picks up a stone, and commends it to the light.
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