A man clad in black walked among the cosmos. Even his hair and goatee were dark, save for a single streak of white that broke through the black. His hands moved through time as if dipping into water, disturbing unseen currents as he passed.
He walked on, surrounded by nothing but stars and drifting galaxies, until a palace came into view. It floated in the inky void, vast and silent.
He was home.
He stepped inside, brushing stardust from his shoulder.
“You had better not be making a mess.”
The voice was sultry, echoing through the halls as if it could see everything he did.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Following it, he stepped through an open doorway. The room beyond glowed softly, lit by floating orbs. Crimson lace draped from the ceiling and walls, forming a delicate canopy that seemed to breathe with the space itself.
At its center sat a woman. Her hair was a deep, vivid red. Her eyes were sharp and piercing, their color matching her hair. Blood dripped from her fingers, spinning into thin strands she wove together with careful precision, adding to the endless lace around her.
He approached, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She smiled, lifting a hand to cradle his face.
“Welcome home, Myrios.”
“Thank you, Serum.” He turned his attention to her work, studying the intricate patterns forming beneath her hands. “These are new. I see you have been working hard.”
“Someone has to record destiny,” she replied, not looking up as she continued weaving. “How are the children?” she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
Myrios leaned back against the only bare wall in the room, a faint smile resting at the edge of his lips.
“The same as ever. Though Dewh has created something they call a tsunami.”
Serum paused.
“A tsunami?”
“A wave,” Myrios explained, gesturing lightly, “large enough to swallow cities whole.”
Serum exhaled slowly, a quiet weariness threading through the sound.
“They are still young, dear. I am sure they will settle in another twenty thousand years.” Myrios chuckled softly, and she returned to her work.
“Has anything of note occurred?” he asked, leaning closer to watch as the lace shifted and formed beneath her fingers.
“Quite a bit,” she said, a faint smile touching her lips. “I can see seven, perhaps more, in this timeline alone.”
“Humans are endlessly entertaining.” Her expression softened as she stared at the blood-spun threads.
“Would you care to choose one and tell me about it?” he asked.
She scoffed lightly.
“Would you be able to choose a single moment in time?” Serum said, her voice carrying a hint of sarcasm, though a glimmer lingered in her eyes. She had already chosen where to begin.
“Humor me.” He winked.
She sighed, though her expression softened.
“Very well.”
Her fingers slowed, selecting a single thread from the countless others.
“This one takes place in Gildan.”
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing as she followed its path.
“Just before the String is born.”