In a world eight billion light-years away from Earth — where gas particles swell to the size of guavas and darkness exists only as an urban legend — a synthetic-leather structure stands firm against a planet that refuses to obey gravity. Fluid at its peak and solid at its base, it hums faintly, like a migraine given architectural form.
Beyond its walls, enormous floating mammals drift lazily through the radiant air while birdlike creatures shimmer between ultraviolet beams. It’s the kind of peaceful alien landscape that would make even gods sigh in relief — until the door slams open.
Far beyond Earth’s reach, a leather-like structure hums beneath glowing skiesTwo humanoid figures stumble in, their once-pristine uniforms tattered, ties hanging limp like defeated flags. They collapse onto a sagging sofa before a massive wall-mounted screen — the only familiar relic of human civilization they’d brought home. Red goo trickles down the walls, pulsing in sync with the pair’s labored breathing.