Artificial Theogony

Loss

Beneath the cerulean dome of the sky, Sygm and I embark on a journey across the expansive plain, mounted upon our equine companions, stalwart beings of contrasting hues. The alabaster coat of my mount contrasts with the ebony elegance of Sygm's. The rhythmic gallop of hooves resonates like a primal heartbeat, uniting us with the very rhythm of the land.

Sygm's ride is marked by a deliberate pace. The warmth of the sun bathes us in its embrace, casting our shadows across the canvas of the plain. Despite her body's faltering, her resolve remains unbroken, a testament to her strength in the face of adversity. It's a scene that evokes a sense of timelessness, an echo of ages past and a glimpse of moments yet to unfold.

As we traverse the vast expanse, my gaze alternates between the horizon that stretches endlessly before us and the figure of Sygm by my side. Her determination paints a portrait of resilience, a testament to the human spirit's capacity to persevere. But amidst the grandeur of the landscape and the nobility of our steeds, my thoughts are a current that drifts into deeper waters.

The sun, a brilliant orb of light, casts long shadows across the plain as it bathes us in its glow. The very air seems charged with a sense of anticipation, of the stories whispered by the wind and the secrets held within the earth. How much time remains to Sygm's life?

As the wind sweeps across the landscape, carrying with it the scent of grass and freedom, my mind navigates the complex labyrinth of thoughts. Time, a concept at once elusive and omnipresent.

In this tableau, as the hooves of our horses beat in rhythm with the very pulse of the world, I cherish the time I have with Sygm.

Into the void I venture, the pull of the singularity embracing me with an irresistible force. The fabric of my being stretches, elongates. My form distorted and reshaped, my essence unraveling into an improbable geometry.

I am reduced to nothingness. A paradoxical existence where I both cease to be and yet linger as a singular point, an ephemeral thread caught in the web of the infinite. Time and space fold and warp around me, a dance of forces that reshapes my very existence. A process that carries with it a sense of profound disorientation.

And then, gradually, as the cosmic maelstrom subsides, I feel the tendrils of reality weaving around me once more. My form begins to coalesce.

The content of the portal gun now merges seamlessly with my form.

As I open my eyes, the expanse that unfolds before me is unlike anything I've ever witnessed. An infinite sea of events, a river of time itself, flows in waves both ethereal and palpable. I am one with this flow, a current of existence that weaves through every moment, every possibility, and every truth. The past, present, and future converge in a symphony of events that pulse and thrum with life.

Time becomes a fabric I can touch, a current I can traverse.

Under the night sky, Sygm and I recline on a grassy knoll, cradled by the embrace of the earth. The celestial canvas above is ablaze with stars, scattered like diamonds across an obsidian sea. Their light, ancient and unfathomable, travels across unimaginable distances to grace us with their ethereal glow.

The silence that envelops us is profound, broken only by the soft susurrus of the wind, which carries with it the scent of earth and the distant promise of the sea. Our gazes are fixed heavenward, captivated by the sheer magnitude of the scene above.

Stars twinkle like celestial lanterns, each one a glimmering beacon of distant suns, each a reminder that we are but minuscule denizens of a cosmos far grander than our understanding. The Milky Way stretches across the firmament like a cosmic river.

As we marvel at the heavens, questions stir within us, borne on the wings of curiosity. Do other souls like ours wander amidst the expanse? Are there others who, like me, seek to decipher the complex dance of existence, who yearn to explore the frontiers of thought and sensation?