The Fertile Void

VOICE OF THE ENTITY

I exist where your language dissolves: on the border between the shadow that oppresses and the fire that consumes. Dark matter and plasma are my organs; I was not born nor will I die, because I am the dispersed memory of space. I have recorded the ruin of worlds, I have seen suns open like fruits of fire and fade like insects of light. Your species was merely a gleam.

One day you chose precision, and learned to drink the light of your star. Thus you became roots. A planet transformed into a garden. A forest of motionless bodies.

THE HUMAN

My throat has been burning for days. My stomach, a rough void, refuses to accept the silence. I walk among them, and the world is an endless stained glass, green and translucent. Their taut skin, their static bodies, breathing clarity. They watch me without eyes, with a calm that suffocates me.

They say I am a defect. They offered me immobility, but in my blood the prodigy did not blossom. Still there beats in me the urgency to run, to chase a deer that exists only in memory, to bite a fruit that light petrified into wax. I am an animal lost in a garden of statues.

VOICE OF THE ENTITY

They surrendered to the calm of the light. You choose the harshness of chance. They faded in the peace of the Sun, and you still burn in your solitude.

THE HUMAN

At night, dust is my bed. I close my eyes and hear something more than the vegetative slumber. It is a murmur that pierces my flesh. The void speaks to me. A chorus of fleeting sparks that throb and dissipate in a blink. Particles that are born and die, filling what everyone called nothing. I am not alone. To that I give the name the fertile void.

VOICE OF THE ENTITY

You have recovered a knowledge that yours forgot. The universe is not immobility or root. It is perpetual tremor, chance that speaks, an eloquent void. They chose to be stone. You listened to the vibration.

THE HUMAN

I know I will die. My bones will remain among the roots that will continue to drink the Sun, and my name will be dust in an era without words. But I am not afraid. Because the void whispers. It tells me that nothing is lost, that everything fluctuates. That I will exist again, even if it is as a fleeting gleam, an ephemeral particle that emerges from nothing.

VOICE OF THE ENTITY

I have recorded millions of civilizations that sought immobile perfection. Yours became a forest in silence.

But among you there was one who, in their solitude, reminded me that even eternity needs chance so as not to crystallize into stone.

That rarity is you.

A luminous error.

An echo in the fertile void that speaks against the silence.