Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-32932951-20190619223119/@comment-26120744-20190629020953

The entire POTD might feel a sense of deep foreboading, like the gaze of a massive shark just got drawn to them. The Erebus peeps are working double-time, the Insurgents are praying.

Eridan might find some people amongst the wreckage. Wow, I let this die.

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The question causes a ripple like a pebble in a still body of water. Trillions of voices, of trillions of varieties, whisper the question in countless languages over and over again.

The surface of the abyss cracks like glass, each smooth segment divided by the cracks its own image, its own standalone reality with its own laws of physics. These segments then crack into smaller ones, which crack again, and again, until the entire vast thing is covered in countless cracks, the spaces between the cracks the size of singular points in space.