I have seen the end of all things. I have witnessed the unspeakable horror that lurks beyond the stars.
It is a horror beyond description, a nightmare beyond comprehension, a blasphemy beyond redemption. It is the end of all things, the devourer of worlds, the destroyer of stars. I have gazed upon the Omen of Doom, and I know that there is no hope for any living being in this universe.
It all began when I joined the Galactic Exploration Corps, a group of brave and curious souls who ventured into unknown regions of space, seeking new worlds and civilizations. I was one of the best pilots in the corps, and I had a thirst for adventure and discovery. I had no fear of the dangers that might await me in the dark depths of the cosmos.
I was assigned to a small scout ship, along with three other crew members: Captain Harris, a veteran explorer, and a natural leader; Dr. Lee, a brilliant scientist and an expert on alien cultures; and Ensign Jones, a young and eager engineer who had just graduated from the academy. We were a tight-knit team, and we shared a common passion for exploration.
It was on the fifth year of our voyage when we entered a strange and dark nebula. We thought it was a natural phenomenon, a cloud of dust and gas that obscured the stars. But as we approached it, we realized it was something else. Something alive. Something colossal.
It was a creature of such size and shape that I cannot describe it in any words. Even after all this time, my mind refuses to make a coherent picture of what I saw that day.
It had no definite form but seemed to be composed of countless tentacles, eyes, mouths, claws, wings, and other appendages that constantly shifted and writhed. It was a mass of horror and madness, a nightmare made flesh.
We tried to escape, but it was too late. The creature reached out with its tentacles and grabbed our ship, pulling us closer to its maw. We screamed in terror as we felt its teeth tearing through our hull, its saliva burning our flesh, and its tongue licking our brains. We were being consumed by the Omen of Doom, and we knew no mercy or relief.
I do not know how I survived. As I write these words, I am the last survivor of my crew. I only remember that I somehow managed to escape in a small escape pod, and drifted away from the carnage. I hoped to find some other ship or planet that could rescue me, but I found none. I only found emptiness and silence. The Monster had consumed everything in its path, leaving behind nothing but a void.
I have been drifting for years now, alone and hopeless. I have no food or water, no communication or navigation, no hope or purpose. I only have my memories and my madness. I see the Omen of Doom in every shadow and every star. I hear its voice in every sound and every silence. I feel its presence in every breath and every heartbeat.
I have no hope of being rescued or escaping this fate. I am saving my experiences in the databank of the pod, hoping to send this message to anyone who might find this. I can only warn you of the horror that awaits you in the depths of space.
Do not be foolish like me. Do not seek the Omen of Doom. Do not gaze upon its form. It is the end of all things. It is the devourer of worlds. It is the ultimate evil.
This is my final message. This is my last testament.
-A record of a madman,
Omen of Doom, Case: 4752037302.
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Namaste!
I may include these sorts of interlude chapters once in a while to flesh out the universe of "DO: GALB" (the acronym needs some work). But I hope you enjoyed!
Next....
....RANDOM FACT OF THE DAY!!!
- You can go outside and touch grass.