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Author: Temple of Charon
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Facing the abyss.
All of your life’s works become … merely a memory; and now that active memory is dead.
You are now GONE.
The books which extolled your greatness rotted, the monuments eroded, the statues buried in sand. The very language used to describe your greatness now forgotten by whole societies.
The mist at the end of space and time embraces them all.
Now at last you are ready to meet me.
Charon. Ferryman of the dead. Ev’ry thing dead.
People, animals, plants, worlds, stars, galaxies, the known universe.
I do not care who or what you were.
I do not recognize any of that.
Passage will be paid.