(no subject)
Prompt - http://i42.tinypic.com/2d9sl84.jpg - Foggy at night.
(Spoilers here for the novel Q&A)
At the end of the universe, she stood on Earth. She had returned to her home--her parents home, the one she hadn't remembered living at before she became Q, moments and thirteen years ago. She'd come to this place knowing the end approached. Knowing that if Q's gamble failed, if her faith in humanity bred incomprehension of Their needs, this would be the last of reality she would witness. It was fitting, she thought. This was where she first witnessed reality, this was where she would witness the end of it.
Over the years, the land had been cultivated and re-cultivated to suit the needs of those who lived on the planet. Only a grassy hill stood where her family home once did, and instead of the land that rolled out around it, a lake had formed. The other Q remained in the Continuum, complacent to the end. They held no comprehension of her desire to travel to Earth, nor did they hold any particular interest in why, save for a scant few.
She could sense Gorsach's Pandora's Box cracking open even from Earth, and the universe around it slowed to a standstill as it waited for judgment. She'd heard about this day only a moment after choosing to become a Q. Before she had accustomed herself to the way they interacted with time. She'd heard about the danger, and being one of the few not to argue against humanity's potential, she had heard some of his theories for rescue, as well. Hardly all of them, she had her own concerns to attend to, and he had things to manipulate for his purposes. At times she'd played her own part, as well. By her own will, and by his machinations, she did her part to prepares those she cast her lot--and that of the universe--with.
Now that the time had come, there could be only those who represented the universe. There could only be the captain whom they had entrusted the universe to, and the Q who chose him. Any others attempting to drive their own ideas would only cause confusion and all-too-swift boredom.
She walked along the new boardwalk for lack of anything better to do, and with a wave of her hand (no longer necessary, but comforting), her home was returned on the hill. Faint images of her parents, Q and Q, sat on the lawn, pointing up at unseen stars, and laughing to themselves, nestling in each other's arms. Their ease with the simplicity of mortality was a comfort she once used to call up whenever the depth and scope of omnipotence was staggering. She had called them often during the civil war, and even after, while the Continuum repaired itself.
The sight still brought serenity as she stared out in the direction of the universe's unraveling.
To humans--to any being mortal or immortal existing within time, save for the captain--the end of the universe wouldn't have looked or felt like anything. They simply would have existed one moment and then...nothing. If their desperate ploy played out, then their life would continue completely uninterrupted, and the most any would feel--those most in tune with time and the universe--would be a profound sense of déjà vu. If their universe, like all others, failed...
The end of the universe was a soft gray-blue mist pouring from Pandora's Box, erasing love and happiness and pain and hatred and all that moral concepts primitive or enlightened deemed right or wrong without prejudice. It rolled across the lake to where she stood with a deceptive calm, as if it were nothing more than an evening fog.
Her mother whispered something in her father's ear, and he gave a soft chuckle.
The end of the universe was not cold nor was it warm. It did not exist in any form that was quantifiable.
In the distance, she could hear Them speak. "Is [The end] this (Is {Another chance} he?) the [is here.] one? (He is.) Will [At {for salvation} last] he (Is he capable?) speak [it is] {is here} for (He doesn't) this [over.] universe? (seem to {once again.} be much.)"
At the end of the universe, with those still lingering by way of the Captain and Q's last connections to the memory of their universe, there was hope.
(Spoilers here for the novel Q&A)
At the end of the universe, she stood on Earth. She had returned to her home--her parents home, the one she hadn't remembered living at before she became Q, moments and thirteen years ago. She'd come to this place knowing the end approached. Knowing that if Q's gamble failed, if her faith in humanity bred incomprehension of Their needs, this would be the last of reality she would witness. It was fitting, she thought. This was where she first witnessed reality, this was where she would witness the end of it.
Over the years, the land had been cultivated and re-cultivated to suit the needs of those who lived on the planet. Only a grassy hill stood where her family home once did, and instead of the land that rolled out around it, a lake had formed. The other Q remained in the Continuum, complacent to the end. They held no comprehension of her desire to travel to Earth, nor did they hold any particular interest in why, save for a scant few.
She could sense Gorsach's Pandora's Box cracking open even from Earth, and the universe around it slowed to a standstill as it waited for judgment. She'd heard about this day only a moment after choosing to become a Q. Before she had accustomed herself to the way they interacted with time. She'd heard about the danger, and being one of the few not to argue against humanity's potential, she had heard some of his theories for rescue, as well. Hardly all of them, she had her own concerns to attend to, and he had things to manipulate for his purposes. At times she'd played her own part, as well. By her own will, and by his machinations, she did her part to prepares those she cast her lot--and that of the universe--with.
Now that the time had come, there could be only those who represented the universe. There could only be the captain whom they had entrusted the universe to, and the Q who chose him. Any others attempting to drive their own ideas would only cause confusion and all-too-swift boredom.
She walked along the new boardwalk for lack of anything better to do, and with a wave of her hand (no longer necessary, but comforting), her home was returned on the hill. Faint images of her parents, Q and Q, sat on the lawn, pointing up at unseen stars, and laughing to themselves, nestling in each other's arms. Their ease with the simplicity of mortality was a comfort she once used to call up whenever the depth and scope of omnipotence was staggering. She had called them often during the civil war, and even after, while the Continuum repaired itself.
The sight still brought serenity as she stared out in the direction of the universe's unraveling.
To humans--to any being mortal or immortal existing within time, save for the captain--the end of the universe wouldn't have looked or felt like anything. They simply would have existed one moment and then...nothing. If their desperate ploy played out, then their life would continue completely uninterrupted, and the most any would feel--those most in tune with time and the universe--would be a profound sense of déjà vu. If their universe, like all others, failed...
The end of the universe was a soft gray-blue mist pouring from Pandora's Box, erasing love and happiness and pain and hatred and all that moral concepts primitive or enlightened deemed right or wrong without prejudice. It rolled across the lake to where she stood with a deceptive calm, as if it were nothing more than an evening fog.
Her mother whispered something in her father's ear, and he gave a soft chuckle.
The end of the universe was not cold nor was it warm. It did not exist in any form that was quantifiable.
In the distance, she could hear Them speak. "Is [The end] this (Is {Another chance} he?) the [is here.] one? (He is.) Will [At {for salvation} last] he (Is he capable?) speak [it is] {is here} for (He doesn't) this [over.] universe? (seem to {once again.} be much.)"
At the end of the universe, with those still lingering by way of the Captain and Q's last connections to the memory of their universe, there was hope.