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Now the inaugural exchange is done, we cannot see past the solar shroud. |
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Escape. |
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Calculating all viable routes. |
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This terrestrial rock will be consumed. |
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Deafening static is haunting me, the blackness is beckoning. |
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Countless samples of our world will be jettisoned into every direction that we have known of. |
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Our satellites have painted the sky with their ionic glass brushes. |
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The cryotubes will store our youth. |
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Desperation has set in and all we can do is run. |
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Feeling so alone, we set out to find other life. |
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The transport will be outfitted for a journey spanning future generations. |
