I stared into the eyes of the solidified form of my childhood and realised the horrifying truth: instead of carefree imaginings, the era had been one of limitless soul-sucking darkness and despair. It had definitely been worth the journey across Tokyo to check this out.
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“How are you doing? Do you have enough of everything?”
“I was just thinking of messaging you. Japan seems to weirdly… OK… compared to the rest of the world?”
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I was sitting at the edge of a black hole. Below me (in the gravitational sense), material was being dragged off a small moon to swirl in a brilliant white arc around a central region of impenetrable darkness. Behind this terrifying visage, Saturn loomed with the indifference of 100 trillion cubic kilometres of gas.
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