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February 22, 2025
A.I. Generated
They won’t see it coming. No one ever does. The thing in the sky isn’t just a ship. It’s a world-killer, an executioner of civilizations, a crawling void that unravels the laws of reality just by being here. Cities sleep beneath its shadow, their people moving through the last moments of their existence without realizing they are ghosts waiting to be erased. Its legs stretch across the heavens, each one a towering monolith of shifting, unnatural metal. Pulsing bioluminescent veins ripple along its carapace, feeding an energy core so vast it could unmake stars. Inside, there is no crew, no pilot, no god to bargain with—just the cold, unfeeling hunger of something that was never meant to exist. By the time they look up, it’s too late. The first pulse won’t be fire, won’t be light, won’t be anything they can comprehend. The sky will crack like glass, space will fold inward, and every atom that once made them will unravel into nothing. This is not war. This is not conquest. This is annihilation so complete that the universe itself will forget they were ever here. And the ship will move on, searching for the next world to erase.
