The Stars That Surround Us
By Norman Gray

“I wish to know why we are here Father, beneath the surface.” said Azria. She sat on the floor of their cave, Father’s unseeing eyes following her voice. “The true story of Arukhad. If he really traverses the cosmos still, searching for the perfect star for our planet.”

Father repeated a children’s rhyme. “’Not too dim, not too bright, a new star will outshine our dying light.’” He sighed. “The truth then, my child.”

He cleared his throat. “Long before his journey, Arukhad was noble ruler of Vellen. He was a king without heir, and during his reign had fallen gravely ill. It was not understood, the nature of his illness. . . But if he could become impervious to sickness, cured of mortal frailty? Arukhad would rule eternal.”

“They searched, and found something out there, far beyond the light. Many volunteered for testing, but Arukhad spoke against it; if the cure worked, his test subjects too would gain immortality. If it failed. . . Well, a dying man has little to lose.”

“The cure. . . Transformed him. He became one with the void, dark matter coursing through his veins, the cosmos at his fingertips. A God. Then, he abandoned our world.”

“In time, the light of our star began to dwindle. We called out into the void, praying Arukhad would return. When he did not answer, once more we sought out that dark power in order to save our planet. . . This earned his attention.

“He brought us a new star. Then another. And another. Each perfectly placed like bricks in a mausoleum, sealing us in. The power was to be his, alone.”

“Vellen is but a legend now, a lost civilisation. The stars that surround us so impossibly close together, they would appear as one. Our world, washed away in daylight.”

Azria rose to her feet. “I will climb to the surface. I must see for myself!”

“It will be the last thing you see.” Father’s eyes aligned with Azria’s; it was as if his sight had returned, for a moment. “I know all too well.”

Author Name: Hashim Khalayleh
Title: The Architect’s Farm
Word Count: 350

Upon one’s end on the mortal plane, it is unknown what truly happens to the soul upon the body’s death. Most of the living argue that the world of the deceased is simply around them but beyond their limited perception. Others believe they transcend their plane of being and move onto some other level of existence, not truly dying but merely ascending. Of course there are the rare few that see the cosmic expanse and its true purpose.

That is why I am here. I am Hawk, a ferryman for the dead. However, unlike other psychopomps from earth’s stories such as Charon and Hermes, you are not taken somewhere beyond the material realm. Rather, you are made into a part of the universe you reside in. I transport the lost soul upon my small vessel and sail across the lonely universe. Dodging asteroids and witnessing miracles of time and space. Throughout the journey, we discuss their beliefs and if they’ll be punished for said beliefs. I reassure them by merely placing a hand on theirs with not a word.

As we near the edge of the stars, they see gargantuan beings, made of space itself with massive stars for heads, farming souls within the soil of space and time. Their massive and incomprehensible size allow them to treat the cosmos around them like a inky malleable clay. They look beyond the beings and see a vast emptiness. “These are the architects….” I say with a calm smile. The soul worriedly asks “where are the stars?” I continue to smile and I chuckle before saying “you become them…each memory, dream and fear from your early life becomes something that keeps the sky shining at night.”

The young soul takes a deep nervous breath before letting the pull of the vacant space take them. Their ethereal body slowly fading and nothing but a small light is taken and planted into the fold of space and time. The stories of their life serving as its nutrients.

I suppose the mortals are somewhat right. Souls do not truly die but merely become something more.

The Girl Who Collected the World
by vellichorian

Of course, I’ll tuck you in tighter, my pet. All nice and snug.

Sir Fluffykins? Under the bed. Silly teddy!

The closet? Closed. No monsters tonight.

Your story? I’ll settle my creaking bones in the rocking chair and try to remember.

Once upon a time, or rather, once before time, a little girl floated in space. What did she look like? She didn’t know, because it was before mirrors, or glass, or even smooth pools of water to show her reflection. What did she do? Well, she twirled, and she tumbled, and she counted the stars. There were so many stars, and she was determined to know them all by name.

As she twirled and tumbled and counted, she thought about meeting the stars. She made up stories about finding another little girl floating in the sparkling darkness and sharing what she knew. One day, she decided to go visit the stars and find another girl just like she’d dreamed.

So she put on her cap and… What? Of course, she had a cap! How else would her ears stay warm?… And she set out. She ran between the stars, asking their names and collecting little bits and baubles into her pockets. An acorn. A pebble. A snowflake. She met other traveling girls, and traded collections and stories, before giggling and hugging goodbye.

And eventually, the little girl returned to where she had started, this very place, and she emptied her pockets to arrange her treasures. An ember. A cloud. A bit of wool. When she was finished, she had created the loveliest world, with a sunrise and a sunset, a summer and a winter, trees and mountains and flowers, and animals of all kinds.

And when she finished, the little girl tucked herself inside her world, all snug like you are now, and she slept. Some say she still sleeps, all tuckered out from her journey to the edge of the stars. Others say she woke long ago to adventure again, and we can see her at night, running across the sky.

The Deity formerly known as Yahweh reviews the ‘Observable YOUniverse’ office desk accessory (At The Edge of The Stars)
By Matthew R Wright

I’m not usually the sort of sentient-thought-cloud to get themselves mad over nothing, I like to think better of myself. However, my experience with your product has brought-out a side-of-me that I simply won’t ignore. I am more than just a little unsatisfied, and I aim to explain why.

I cannot get over how your product breaks itself. That bares repeating. THIS PRODUCT BREAKS ITSELF! What kind of company sells a product like the ‘Observable YOUniverse’ only for it to POP itself like an overly-excited party-balloon after less than 14 billion years? Is this some sort of scam?

This anger is not just because of how poorly manufactured it was, or it’s poor quality, my real anger comes from how misleading your product’s description is.

The product’s description openly lies. It NEVER mentions that the life within the YOUniverse, within all of those planets, systems and galaxies, could or would ever evolve to be spacefaring. NEVER.

I guess that’s how you get us, isn’t it?

One minute you’re staring into your Scalar-Scope and observing type-zero worlds, worlds incapable of advancing past the use of crude oils and not muting your background noise during meetings – the next, they’ve managed interstellar travel and are SLAMMING themselves into the side of their enclosure with their ships, looking for meaning beyond their designed function, which was MY ENTERTAINMENT, I’ll remind you.

BANG! There goes eighty-five-hundred credits.

Not to compare brands or anything, but other observable universes, like the BOLSHOI models, are rated much higher on the market-place, have features such as intervention and rewinding, and after reading some reviews, none of them have experienced nearly as many issues as I’ve had. You might want to think about how many you’re scaring away with your lack of customer consideration.

Look, please can you just respond to this review and discuss either a refund or a replacement. I did enjoy this product, managed to influence the beings inside into learning my name, but you know. SLAM!

1 out of 10

I expect a response ASAP.

Yahweh – Verified Purchase

Travel Guide
by VulpesRose

When you are wandering alone at dawn or dusk, those times that are not brilliant day nor fully enveloped in night, you may see an old man sitting on a tree stump, just past the place where a familiar path splits in a direction you’ve never tread before.

If you decide to follow the unfamiliar path, the man will ask you where you would like to go, and you should answer truthfully. He will tell you the way. If you aren’t sure, tell him. You should still follow his directions. If he asks for your name, remember to lie.

You will feel eyes on you in the woods. This is normal, but do not run. If you run, you will be chased, and if you are chased, you will be caught. You do not want anything in these woods to catch you.

Be aware of the path. You may pick any flowers you can reach from the path, but do not pick any fruit. Fruit that has fallen onto the path is safe to eat, but be sure to thank the tree that dropped it.

Do not tell the trees your age.

You may meet a man selling hats. Under no circumstance should you try one on. He will be very insistent. Simply tell the man that none of his hats match your shoes, and continue on your way. Even if you happen to be barefoot.

If you make it to your destination, and not everyone does, do not linger overlong. Do not turn back the way you came. Instead, continue forward along the path.

You may notice that it is, somehow, still twilight, that the stars are still winking in and out of sight above you. Do not stare. You don’t want the stars to stare back without the protection of night.

At some point, you will realize that you are back on a familiar path. If you wish to tell others of your travels, speak as though recounting a dream. Do not go looking for anyone you met on your journey. Or else they will find you.

The Abyss Says Hello

By Joe

From out of the infinite black, the giant eye peered down at me. Its pupil trapped my attention, like a light in a black hole.

“Hello. Be not afraid human,” its voice resonated in the beyond.

I was so awed by its presence that tears poured from my eyes.

“Why do you cry?” It asked concerningly.

I tried to hold my tears, but they kept pouring as I spoke. “Since humanity walked the earth, since the birth of science, since we looked to the stars, we were afraid that we were alone in the universe.” I choked. “We searched everywhere but found no sign of intelligent life. We were disappointed and somehow felt alone among our own. Until we went beyond the border of our universe. I was sent as a probe and only saw blackness. It was as if I had entered an unwritten universe. Blank. I have never felt so out of place. Suspended in the unknown, like the edge of a cliff, but it felt like I could fall anywhere and never hit anything. I felt…alone.” I smiled and held up my arms to praise the entity. “But then you appeared. I have never felt so happy to know that we’re not alone. How are you?”

The entity backed itself up in surprise. “I’m…good I guess. A bit confused.”

“Heh. I bet.”

“You traversed the entire universe because you felt lonely?”

“Well, that and we hoped to find more meaning to everything.”

“The meaning of life?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. I always thought that life was defined by what exists. Because what is life without the living and all the living interacts with?”

“So, life is defined, not by words, but by existence and action?”

“I’m saying that there is no one meaning to life. Life is defined by EVERYTHING. From this natural space to your inventions, even YOU are part of its definition.”

I never thought I’d be complimented by such a being. It was fulfilling, and flattering.

“Do you want to meet everyone?” I asked.

“I’d love to,” it said.

Dreams and Delusions
by Weiss G.

On a street near Longford Park in Manchester, there is a little shop that sells stolen dreams. Behind the counter in a tiny room full of countless goods sits an elderly woman, sipping hot cocoa with a calm look on her face. A shop is full of merchandise – dreams, stolen from people, regular people, happy and miserable, poor and rich, famous and not much so. Whenever a person, awakened already, tries but can’t recall what were they dreaming of – it’s likely, that their “forgotten” dream is lying somewhere amidst many motley products of this peculiar parlour.

Dreams sold here come in all shapes and sizes. A vision of an old bike, long lost by someone during childhood, another one that ascends it’s owner to the unbelievable heights of fame and fortune of a popular rock-musician, or a faint dream about happiness, about a warm beach and sunlight, and a red parasol, and the love of the life sitting beside, and a little girl playing with a beach ball nearby.

However, the best of them all sits under a heavy glass dome on a special table. It has a form of a porcelain mug, blue and white, yellow and purple, with a little drawing of stars and moon, and a spacecraft, and some elegant handwriting that reads – “To the Edge of the Stars” – engraved on it. Should you drink a warm tea from it, best a mint or a camomile, before going to bed, and a wonderful journey awaits you in your sleep. It will take you to a distant, unimaginably faraway place, where all galaxies end, where stars are long left behind, and even light has troubles keeping up it’s speed. A sight unbelievably beautiful opens to one’s eye, bright and colourful, more real than reality, it will be forever carved into your memory.

Unfortunately, no one knows about such a magnificent store. Many pass by, yet no one will come inside, no one will look around in astonishment, no one will buy that porcelain mug, and no one will see – what’s hidden at the edge of the stars…

Starlight Peak.

by Galer.

A ship made out of metal tissue paper alloy was getting near the flat start, the brilliant discus leaking out starlight like a water fountain in zero-g.

“Are we close?” asked captain Laidan, one of his multiple floating hands touching the device on his space suit contacting back to the H.Q in the spongy world Genimes.

“You are several clicks nearby the flat sun but not enough for the volatile starlight to touch the ship,” said one of the people in the H.Q” tell Kalloy to raise the reflector spell”

“Ok H.Q,” Laidan said while he pressed a button on the ship to talk with one of his comrades”Kalloy can you cast the spell? we are at the perfect range.”

“At your order captain” Kalloy replied while he produced a disembodied hand, to pour aether into a device in front of him.

Right at that moment, a shimmering field surrounded the ship from top to bottom, and from front to back making the starlight, to part away from the spaceship, as well as blocking the blinding lights produced by it.

“Remember to start up the camera captain we need the visuals,” said H, Q ” this is vital research don’t forget that!”

“Don’t say that, I ain’t forgetful!” Laidan replied while he pushed a button, then the ship tissue started to turn, and twist until they turned into eyeballs that shone just strong as the sun, they were researching “Done”

just at this moment, he raised his head to see something marvelous, their star wasn’t a smooth circle like in their legends. It was all cracky with landscape on its own, and when they reached the edge they were looking at a structure of considerable size, it didn’t take long for Laidan to realize it was a mountain dripping with intense starlight.

“Wow,” Laidan said at the spectacle, he was witnessing the star in all its glory, he then talked in his communicator back to H, Q”this is a huge leap for our people H.Q”

“Indeed it is captain,” H, Q said back “indeed it is.”

To the Stars
Alexander Goodhand

“Good luck out there.”

The message is shorter than I’d hoped, but I nod understandingly. My son’s face, usually stone, nearly crumbles.

Next in line is my husband.

“I want to come with you.” He says, like I knew he would. I smile and cup his chin. Still firm, notched with many more scars than the day we’d met; handsome as ever. We both know he can’t end the mission early. He touches his horns to mine for the last time, then removes my hand from his cheek. His selflessness is what attracted me to him, and his willingness to let me go fills me with pride and anguish.

I move on to my granddaughter.

I stoop to her diminutive 180cm height. She’s small for a toddler, just like her father was. In another colony she might’ve been pumped with growth enhancers. Here, she’ll have a future as a scout.

I expect a silent farewell, but I’m wrong. “What’s out there, grandma?” The most I’ve ever heard her say at once. Her horns, more like nubs, reflect the airlock’s soft orange lights.

Ever her father’s daughter. He’d asked his grandfather the same question decades ago. I wasn’t there, I was on a mission like her mother is now, but I’ve heard the story countless times. I have my father’s last words memorized, and I repeat them to her.

“Home. We fight our best, then we go home.”

She nods, trying to become stone, but I see her mind racing. A light in her eyes, the same one my son had when I’d come back from that mission. Surprise, wonder, that there might be a life beyond the war.

I gaze at my loved ones one last time. “I’m ready now.”

The airlock’s interior door opens, and the pair of guards waiting there admit my family back into the ship. I needed the last look; there are no windows. The airlock’s lights flash, and the exterior door groans open.

My heart swells to see the stars… Dad is out there, just past them.

“Almost home.”

“Left Behind.”
By Clover Gislason

I once loved and thought to be loved, but now I don’t know. Fires mount themselves on buildings in a contest of strength. The air chokes us with smoke in a similar color to the paint cup my mom would dip sainted brushes in. Stars fall about me like snow, though they sting with each landing. People run from homes abandoning those who cannot run behind them. Seeing another cluster of people, I call out again.
“Mom. Dad.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
One lady I’ve never seen before glances at me. She smiles, her face wet with tears, “It’s going to be alright. Your parents will come to get you.”
She runs past me, clutching a newborn in her arms.
I retreat further under the bus stop’s roof, yet the snow redirects itself in such a manner I know that it wants to hit me.
Soon footsteps vanish, screams have been silenced, and now I know I am alone.
I curl up on my side on the cement.
A flash of light paints my vision red. I open my eyes.
Before stands a tall ambiguous figure barely tangible from the stars around us. “You poor thing. Have they left you all on your own?”
My lips quiver, and I nod.
“You don’t need to worry about that anymore. Come with me.”
They take my hand. Their skin is so cold it’s hot like a burning stovetop. I snatch my hand back.
“You deny my gift?” The figure stiffens. “Then you suffer and die in this hell your kind brought on yourselves.”
“Wai-.”
They meld back into the stars.
The stars whisk away from the streets, fleeing.
I turn to see my home swallowed by black.
First, it’s the top of the house where mom and dad’s room is, then the kitchen, and finally, it eats the front door.
It reaches to me, and I reach back.

The Birth of the Visitor
by Flamekin

I can see them all.

Every being that has ever walked on every planet in every galaxy in all of existence.

My family and friends have begun to shun me after I discovered this ability, but they don’t even care to ask why I sit atop the grassy hillock behind my house all night looking at the stars, they just assume I have gone mad with the moon. A lunatic.

But there I still sit, watching the ebbs and flows of time, the hopes, and dreams of those that only I can see, those whom I don’t know, and do not know me.

It strikes me now, as I watch the lone survivor of a doomed race, that there are so many who will never be able to tell their own story, and that if I were to do nothing, they would be lost to the depths of the eternal dark abyss of time. Each of those souls reduced to nothing but the sad remnants of photons reflected speeding out away from them to be lost over the edge of the stars.

I cannot let that happen, and I do not know why. My heart sees this, and it screams out at the injustice, that something so important as a life could ever be completely forgotten. That a story will go unheard.

I feel in my heart I must leave the home that I know and embrace the myriad stars. I cannot let my sympathies for my family delay me in my quest.

I know that because of this power that I have, I will live throughout the eternities. I will see empires rise and fall, and I will have the time, I think, to visit each, and every one of these souls that I see.

I think that I shall go do that now.

Perhaps soon, we will have the chance to talk face to face.

I look forward to hearing your story.

Maybe is a Horrible Word
by Haelamon

What is void? What is outside of all creation? Is it nothing at all? Or is it everything? Black, white, gray, pink, red, blue? Empty or full? Well looking at it isn’t helping answer that much.

The edge of creation, or just the beginning. That is the void, the edge.

Humans grew. Humans dwindled. All in this lonely universe.

To such technological heights that galaxies could be moved around to form art as often as a person would text another. And such nights that inventing a wheel would be genius. Oft at the same time as well.

However empty the universe proved itself to be, humans held hope.

Humans kept traveling.

Humans sped and spread amongst the very stars themselves.

Only to find everything empty.

Not a piece of life but the ones made by human hands, and even they were like dry grass. Lit aflame with the spark called intellect if it ever appeared.

Yet humans held hope. Till they ran past the stars.

Empty. Desolate. Nothing.

Yet anything that dared pass ceased, never seen again with the cover of eternal and endless night.

What do those who pass see? What do those who pass experience?

Death, life, pain, bliss… I would love to know before I enter… yet…

Forwards I go, on this grand journey, the stars burned out, humans living past them. Blackholes slowly dwindle.

More humans fall asleep in eternal slumber. Hoping that something kindles new fire in the universe, alas that hope is likely in vain.

So like myself, many follow to the edge past the stars. To see the adventure we were never brave enough to take before, as not much is left now with long lives that stretch endlessly.

To the unknown we go. To the darkness that may hide light.

Maybe to life unknown, or old friends long gone. Maybe to death, maybe to purgatory. ‘Maybe’ is a horrible word for one such as I who loves certainties so. But a certainty of lying to die is too bleak for I, so a leap is taken. Hoping to fly.

Creation (Darkspell Universe)
By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

Here on the edge, Felix could see into the vastness of the cosmos. Any mortal would have been driven insane by this panorama. Even he had trouble comprehending is all fully.

“Impressive, isn’t it,” Emmer said, next to him. “Can you imagine… Our garden used to span all of this.”

“And today, even you can’t fully understand how much it has grown.”

“We gardeners have lost track of it all, it’s true,” Emmer chuckled. “It’s a shame the Age of Gardeners has ended.”

“Replaced by the Age of Reapers?”

Felix turned to face Emmer. He didn’t know, if his people were up to the task anymore. If they ever had been. The gardener raised a hand and touched his cheek.

“Doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” her voice was barely a whisper. “It’s never too late to change, Felix.”

“You want me to give them up? To throw my sickles into the void and rely on myself and goodwill alone?”

“No, no. There are things out there that absolutely deserve to be skewered by that dead steel of yours. Finding those things is where the trick lies.”

Felix looked out again, letting his gaze wander over the eternity in front of him.

“We’re not enough. We don’t have enough reapers to continue as before. What if… this is the end? If we fail and we really are at the edge of this?”

“Are you really that alone?” Emmer let her hand sweep over the cosmos. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but I think there are plenty of people out there, who are trying. Sometimes, being a guardian means jumping in front of a bullet for someone else. Other times, it involves giving people the means to do so themselves.”

Felix tried not to be overwhelmed. Emmer chuckled again.

“No, Felix, I don’t think this is the end, but rather a tipping point,” she put both hands on his shoulders. “And something tells me that you still have a very substantial role to play. Good luck, Felix. I’ll do what I can from here.”

“The World’s End”

By: Arith_Winterfell

The chain of the ship’s anchor groaned and pulled taut as it held the ship Elithir in place against the roaring current. Before us roared the waters of the sea plummeting off nothing less than the world’s edge. We had sailed west for months to reach it and now we stood at the summit of our journey.

Twilight had fallen. The moon was much closer now, and hung like a pale ripe and heavy fruit hanging in the dark. It shone so brilliantly that it bathed the ship in light like the day. The stars, also much closer, hung in the void beyond the world’s end, slowly turning with the celestial sphere. They burned brightly with a cold terrible silver light. Constellations blazed brightly before us. We all stood in silence for a time, at the incredible sight, as we gathered on deck to witness it. Few would ever see this sight.

The other wizards had gathered on deck with their strange instruments. Some similar to the common spyglass. Others held stranger devices still, some made of twisted metal, studded with gems now glowing with eerie colored lights. They chattered amongst themselves, eagerly spouting off arcane references to observations in the heavens, constellations, and secrets only wizards share among themselves.

Captain Ahmed leaned against the trunk of the mizzenmast watching the whole affair going on near the bow of the ship as he smoked his pipe. I approached Ahmed to his surprise and joined him there.

“Good evening, Captain,” I said.

“I’m surprised you’re not with the others,” said Captain Ahmed.

I drank in the sights before us, but consulted no tools like the others. “I’m here to capture the sights, but not to measure them.”

The captain looked over in mild confusion. I answered his unspoken question.

“I’m here to capture the experience rather than the mathematics of our voyage. When we get home, I can recreate the experience via illusions. There are many who would love to experience the wonders at the world’s end.”

Blood at the End of Eternity

By Thunder

On one side, stars. The transparent bubble allowed a 180-degree view of the Milky Way, a swath of glittering brilliance a hundred thousand lightyears deep.

On the other, nothing. Empty, black void stretching out to infinity and beyond. The smallest glimmers occasionally shone through, and using the telescopes revealed more stars, more galaxies, an eternity away.

The observation deck was at the apex of Nemo Station, the two bubbles separated by a short walkway. Harper McLan often spent hours up here, in solitude or with small groups, walking back and forth between the bubbles, pondering the vastness of the cosmos and humanity’s place within. Today, she sat before the void, fervently imagining she was out there, away from the rest of her species. Reality intruded, shattering her wishes.

“Lieutenant-Commander, multiple hyper-signatures at 1,000,000 kilometers out and closing. Federation transponders.”

A sigh left her. “Of course. Prepare for battle.”

The first signs of war between the Federation and Republic had come six months ago, when Republic agents had arrived to modify and arm her station. Tracking enemy fleets and listening to communications, they said. Harper hadn’t objected, even as Nemo Station’s cameras and receivers were pointed back at the Milky Way, and ugly gun emplacements and missile batteries sprouted from the once-clean lines of her station.

Now, with a flotilla of enemy warships closing in, she wished she had spoken out. Said something.

“Open a channel to the Federation ships,” Harper ordered.

“Attention. This is Lieutenant-Commander McLan. I am asking you to withdraw. This station poses no threat to your forces, and its destruction-”

A harsh voice overrode her. “Lieutenant-Commander, if you do not intend to surrender, shut up.”

“Permission to open fire?” Came the request. Harper said nothing.

The Federation fired; ordinance tore through space, drilling into Nemo Station. With every impact, shards of hull, clouds of atmosphere, and broken personnel flew out into the void. Trillions in observation equipment lost with every salvo. Harper remained in the observation deck as her life disintegrated around her. She died looking out into infinity, away from a bloody galaxy.

Let me take you for a joyride

By Tamela Redfin

“Alright, where do we go, Gilbert?” Corlita asked me, wiping her eyes.

“Let’s go for something simple, like burgers. I just hope nobody finds me too terrifying.” I frowned.

“Scary? I know many people with prosthetics. You needn’t worry, Gilbert. It’s the modern age.” Corlita shook her head.

“Well, let’s go then. Burgers won’t just jump into our mouths.” But I did wonder if Corlita could even eat. Was she programmed to feel hunger? But then she was built like a human, so maybe.

“What are you waiting for, Gilbert? I want to try these… burgers. Shall we fly there?”

I laughed, “Let’s walk.” It didn’t take us long to find a burger joint. Also, Corlita was right, nobody commented on my face.

I stared into Corlita’s green eyes. Wait, were Cora’s eyes actually green? They looked more beautiful than her black irises… wait, are you really falling in love with a robot? No, I’m just admiring her beauty.

“Gilbert, why are your pupils all dilated? Are you okay?” Corlita asked.

“Oh. Yes. Are you enjoying living on the edge?” I asked her back.

“True. Or is it said yes? You always say yes. Anyway, this date went well.” She gently held my hand.

Date? Is that she just said? She liked me? The thoughts hit me like a bullet train. “Wanna stargaze?” I blurted out, hoping to kill the tension in my mind.

“I think we can adjust to block out the light pollution. So, yes.” Corlita grabbed my hand and we left. She was right, but did she like me? Was programmed to, but wait, I had subtly overridden her programming. So maybe now she could feel love.

“Gilbert, this is the best day ever.” She cuddled closer.

At The Edge of Everything
C. M. Weller

Blackness. Seemingly infinite void. Cold and uninviting. Probe flicked through all of their sensors, searching for any sign that there was something lurking in the darkness. It had been a journey of millions of years to get here. All for–

Nothing?

Was this all there was from here on?

Probe had swung by planets, sipping their atmospheres just to experience the data. They had listened to radio waves ranging from incomprehensible squeals to near-deafening walls of overlapping chatter that could take centuries to unriddle. They had been close – a little TOO close – to a star going nova, and witnessed the fireworks of stellar swansongs. They had even dipped their antennae into the death-rush swirl of a black hole’s aura.

They had seen anything and everything that could be seen. Sent data, reams and reams of data, back to a single little speck of rock that would never see them in person again. That might even be gone by now.

Did it matter?

Of course it mattered!

Probe’s creators would not have made them so resilient, so capable, if it didn’t MATTER. Knowledge for knowledge’s sake always mattered. It was why Probe’s creators had made a message, attached to Probe in hope. For those smart enough to solve it, it said, ‘Hello. We existed. We made this thing. This is our home. This is us. We were here.’

An invitation. A testimony. A message in a bottle for any intelligent life.

Probe had passed the last stellar boundary. Passed the oort cloud and its fascinating little cometary fragments. The ones too small to journey inwards and paint alien skies with their tails. The ones too large to sail outwards, perhaps to other stars, and lay the seeds of life on a distant soil.

Probe had learned a lot on their journey. And now there was inky nothingness.

Or maybe it WASN’T inky nothingness. Maybe there was something else, just beyond the reach of Probe’s sensors. Perhaps a fragment of the very origin of the universe, waiting to be found.

Maybe this was not the end.

Only one way to find out.