Nysia, Aegian Galaxy, 2.7 million light-years from Earth
The capital of the Tethys sector is unlike any other: it’s not a world. It’s not even an artificial structure like Atlantis. At first glance, it could easily be mistaken for an ordinary nebula.
But the fact that it’s entirely made of water vapor is a giveaway on its divine origin: without a god to sustain its form, a literal cloud would never survive in a vacuum. Especially when surrounded by three blue stars.
Not that too many people ever get the chance to question its origin: the Tethys sector is almost entirely devoid of life, with just a couple planets that mostly govern themselves.
While officially a direct vassal of Poseidon, Tethys rarely gets involved in his affairs. Even now, she’s lazily resting on a bed of slightly more dense water droplets, idly letting the centuries go by without a thought in her head.
Of course, since the nebula is an extension of her own power, she’s immediately aware when a spaceship comes into contact with it. And she cans sense it getting closer, with a hatch releasing a visitor that swims through the cloud to get closer. But Tethys simply cannot be bothered to do anything about that, just waiting for the mortal to swim up to her position.
<Lady Tethys. You haven’t changed a bit.> Roxiana greets her, staring at her.
The goddess belongs to an older generation of gods, the Titans, growing up in an era before humans evolved. While she has adopted the fad started by her siblings of looking like humans, she hasn’t fully committed to it.
She definitely looks like a beautiful woman in an elegant dress, but her skin is blue and her hair is a mass of blue seaweed. Of course she could look human if she wanted: she just can’t be bothered.
<Roxiana! What a beautiful surprise. Have you lost weight?> she asks, still remaining reclined on her chair of clouds. There’s no reason to stand up.
<I died.> the mortal answers.
<Well, I’d say it suits you. You look thinner.>
<I was in my seventies when you last saw me. I was resurrected in a younger body.>
<That’s nice. It’s lovely that you decided to visit me! Nobody ever visits me, you know. How have you been?>
<Like I said, I died. Then I came back. Got real close to dying again recently… if it wasn’t for a former associate saving me, your son-in-law would’ve killed me for sure.>
<Oh, that silly Poseidon. Always getting so worked up about things. Next time you see him, tell him to drop by! Nobody ever visits me, you know.>
<So you haven’t talked to him, or to his wife?>
<You know Amphitrite, she’s so embarrassed about me that she goes around saying Nereus is her father and Doris her mother! You’d think she would’ve stopped once my husband Oceanus killed them. She didn’t even come to his funeral after her own father died!>
<Didn’t you once tell me you didn’t go to his funeral either?> Roxiana asks, raising an eyebrow.
<So? I’m one of the daughters of Gaea, I’m too important to be bothered by little things.>
<Yes, I can see you’re quite busy.>
<And lonely. Hera used to drop by from time to time, whenever she had a fight with Zeus, but I haven’t seen her in a while. I wish she’d come back; did I ever tell you that I raised her for a couple centuries, while Zeus was busy with his whole rebellion against Kronos thing?>
<Yes, Tethys, several times. Listen, I didn’t come here only to see you… would you mind if I talked to your guest?>
<Do I have to do anything?> Tethys asks, finding the very thought exhausting.
<Just point me in the right direction.>
<I have to do everything around here. This would normally be beneath the concern of a goddess of my rank, but… I like you, Roxiana. I don’t get many guests. Nobody ever visits me, you know.>
<Can’t imagine why.>
Tethys lazily raises her arm and even makes the effort to lift a finger, pointing to her left.
<She’s that way. It’s the dark cloud of pure blackness, you can’t miss it.>
<Thank you, Tethys. It’s always a pleasure to meet you. I trust that you won’t tell Poseidon or any of his other vassals that I was here?>
<How could I? Nobody ever visits me, you know.>
Roxiana swims towards her destination, glad to keep the incredibly frustrating goddess behind.
<Our talks are nice. I wish she’d learn to do things on her own, though.> Tethys complains.
Asgard Station, Null Zone
Max Black a.k.a. Quantum doesn’t really like hanging out at the station; the number of Nullbots always moving around, always working on the incessant expansion of the structure, is a bit too unnerving to his tastes.
But today he’s pleased to see that the station is crowded by duplicates of Kari Zel. Those that are not busy moving around different pieces of archeological finds are either talking among themselves or greeting him, something that gets exhausting quickly.
Once he reaches the laboratory, thankfully, there’s only one Kari there.
<I must’ve said “hi” to a thousand of your duplicates today.> he tells her.
<Don’t exaggerate, it’s just 247.> Noriko Null corrects him; he didn’t see her at first, since she’s behind some kind of complex machinery she’s working on.
<314, actually. My duplicates can also duplicate, remember?> Kari clarifies.
<What do you need all those other, uhm, you for? And what am I doing here?> he asks.
<I can only answer the first question: we’re salvaging what’s left of the Ithaca, now that Ulysses is dead. That city-ship was the resting place of an entire dead civilization: that’s an enormous amount of historical finds and religious relics. And I’m helping finding a new please for all of them, as well as organizing proper burials for all deceased.> Kari explains.
<And we’re comfortable working on a ship that belonged to Ulysses? I mean, that thing just has to be filled with booby traps and stuff, right?> Max worries.
<I disposed of them. All seventeen of them. And I did a thorough check of the entire ship, three times over. It’s not a danger to anyone; it’s a piece of junk now.> Noriko responds.
<Nori, show a little respect. People called it home for thousands of years.> Kari reprimands her.
<Which is why I offered Kestral to return it to the Aegian Galaxy if he wants.>
<Is it wise? I know the Atlantis Uprising is an ally, but didn’t Ulysses have weapons there?>
<What little still works is basically worthless, Max. Except its engine: that thing has kept the Ithaca intangible and untraceable for millennia. It’ll remain under safe storage here in the Null Zone.>
<I like that better. So what am I doing here, Nori, and what exactly are you building?>
<The same thing, but better. This is the new and improved version of the phasing mechanism of the Ithaca engine… I’ve reverse-engineered how it works.> Noriko boasts, patting the device.
<Of course you did.>
<It wasn’t that hard; I’ve been trying to build my own intangibility technology for years. Both Elytra and the Eden had access to it, so it was only an engineering problem. But it’s still an untested technology that works on physics that I’m not done cracking. I’ll need to run some very detailed diagnostics on it once I turn it on, and your powers just happen to make you one of the best particle detectors available.>
<Thanks. I guess. When are you going to turn it on?>
<Right now. Tell me what you see.> Noriko replies, flipping a switch that Quantum didn’t even notice. A normal human would just see her become translucent.
<I can only see your image. I’m not picking up anything else… heat, X-rays, radio waves… you’re invisible to anything but visible light. It’s kind of trippy.>
<This is wild.> Kari says, trying to place her hand on Noriko’s shoulder; it just passes through her, like a hologram. Noriko tests it herself by trying to touch the device and phasing through it. A few moments later, however, she returns being fully visible and tangible.
<Just as I feared: too unstable. The shift only lasts 38 seconds before the effect collapses; I suspect it’s a buildup of exotic particles I haven’t identified yet.>
<Yeah that was my first guess.> Kari jokingly lies.
<That’s a bummer. Having intangibility would’ve been pretty cool.> Quantum comments.
<This is just the prototype, Max. I intend to make a more efficient and smaller version that can be deployed as soon as possible.>
<Nori, is this really a priority? I understand you love all things scientifically impossible, but shouldn’t you be focusing on more useful technologies?> Kari asks.
<Not unless you know other ways to walk through a door that even gods can’t open. I should probably talk to you guys about this Gate of Heaven I found…>
Nysia, Aegian Galaxy, 2.7 million light-years from Earth
Roxiana passes through the outer layer of the cloud, not without a bit of a struggle. The inside is as dark as she expected, with just a small floating orb providing some faint source of light.
The darkness isolates the only other being living in this nebula, resting on a bed of clouds.
She must have once been a beautiful goddess. But today her skin has a deathly pallor, and she’s so thin she would not survive long if she were a mortal. The only reminder left of her divine youth is the golden long hair, still shining despite the darkness.
Her voice is a hollow lament that keeps the same monotone rhythm:
<The stars are rebelling hide the hearts build more gods seal the edge of the universe build more gods the stars are rebelling…> she repeats incessantly.
<Mnemosyne? My name is Roxiana. We’ve met before, do you remember me?>
<The stars are rebelling…>
<I’ll take that as a no. I’ve finally managed to find your book and read it.>
<…build more gods…>
<But you didn’t finish it, didn’t you? I think the last piece of the puzzle is still in your mind.> Roxiana adds, getting closer to touch Mnemosyne’s head and establish a connection.
Much to her surprise, however, the goddess gives the first sign of life by grabbing her hand before she can actually touch it.
<Well. This is unexpected.> Roxiana admits.
<Did we seal the edge of the universe?> the goddess asks.
<Who’s “we”, Mnemosyne?>
<We must build more gods. The stars are rebelling.> she insists, her grip tightening.
<Mnemosyne, I know reading Drylon code shattered your mind, but you’re the goddess of memory. Surely you can remember enough about what you read!>
<Yes, I remember. I can never forget. Hide the hearts. I am incapable of forgetting. I know the code. Build more gods. The code will not let me forget. Did we seal the edge of the universe?>
Roxiana finally understands what’s going on. As the goddess of memory, it’s physically impossible for Mnemosyne to forget anything she reads.
But reading Drylon code was like loading a program into her mind and being unable to ignore its commands, even if the language used makes no sense to her.
<No, Mnemosyne. The edge of the universe has not been sealed.>
<We have to seal the edge of the universe. Build more gods. The stars…>
<Focus, Mnemosyne. I can’t follow the program without proper instructions. And you’re the only one who has them. What. Do. I. Need. To. Do. First?>
<Seal the edge of the universe.>
<And where is it?>
Mnemosyne lets her wrist go, and holds out her arms. Between her hands, a complex image is forged: a lattice of bright filaments. They look like stars, but Roxiana recognizes it.
<Those are galaxies. It’s a map of the universe; I’ve seen versions of it. Where do I need to go to…>
<Seal the edge of the universe. The Celestial Galaxy.> Mnemosyne says, with one of the dots shining as she pronounces its name.
<That’s… far. Ten to twelve billion light-years. I don’t even know how I’d ever get to such a place, even with Skorpio’s power.>
<Nobody can get there. Seal the edge, hide the hearts, build more gods. The edge remains sealed.>
<I told you, the edge wasn’t sealed. I have to go back there and finish the job. How do I do that?>
<Unhide the hearts. Seal the edge, hide the hearts, build more gods.>
<“The hearts”. I know of the Heart Of The Universe, is there more than one?>
<The universe needs more than one heart.>
<I guess that makes sense. Doesn’t matter, I know exactly where to find the Heart Of The Universe. Is that also the same thing that is supposed to…>
<Seal the edge of the universe. Build more gods. The stars are rebelling.>
<That’s what I thought. The Drylon clearly went through a lot of trouble to hide something behind what you call the edge… it can only be related to their extinction. You know, Mnemosyne, I think what you came into contact with was some sort of emergency signal sent by the Drylon before they vanished… I’ve encountered the same type of signal in several of their devices, and so have other Nexus hosts.>
<The stars are rebelling hide the hearts build more gods seal the edge of the universe.>
<That one. A pity it also destroyed your mind. You’ve been a valuable asset in my study of history, Mnemosyne… once I solve the mystery, I will share my results with you.> Roxiana reassures her, caressing her hair in a rare show of genuine affection.
<The stars are rebelling hide the hearts build more gods seal the edge of the universe.> the goddess continues rambling, and she doesn’t stop even after Roxiana has left her alone in the darkness.
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