Hope. And standing with strangers.

That’s what I remember. Hope churning beneath my skin, assuring me there was a place besides this place. A realm that would nurture us, not kill us. The Earth was ruin. Chaos and madness and death. We were standing on the Earth. Where I am now. But why am I still here? It was my turn to leave. I remember. I was waiting with others like me, and the ships would soon take us away.

But to where? Where was this hope?

I must have known. There had to be a name, coordinates. Except all of that is forgotten. Other than my absolute conviction in salvation, nothing remains.

The Traveler.

I remember that now.

Which was...


I don’t know. Something has stolen my words, the imagery. But I still remember what it promised us...

The universe.


Creation held in our hands.

But I was here for a reason.

And what would I surrender, just for the faint chance to remember what that good reason was.