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Sana rubbed her eyes with a trembling hand. She took one last look around the planetarium. Gears that once clanked, rattled, and ticked now lay dormant. Planets that once revolved around the shining star in the centre stood dull, silent and still.
The sad ringing of the universe was the only sound that echoed around the large chamber. Like distant cosmic wind chimes, the crying chords of Sana’s creations permeated the room like the aether of space.
Every universe had to stop growing somewhere, she told herself.
Even the ones with fun people and good memories. It was the natural law of things.
Sana swallowed a lump that formed in her throat. She choked back a ball of emotion and urged the welling in her eyes to go away.
She turned away from the motionless room. Her workshop where she had spent billions of years crafting and fixing the ever-expanding universe. At least, at the time it seemed to be ever-expanding.
The Speaker of Space was sitting on a rickety stool, hunched over a large sturdy workbench. A messy assortment of tools lay strewn haphazardly all over it. Sana stretched for a hammer. It was just out of her reach.
She grunted and thrust herself forward to grab the item, but her fingers were only able to brush the celestial gold finish of the tool. Her knee bumped against the table, making everything rattle noisily.
Sana puffed her cheeks and held her breath in silent frustration. She stared down at the planet she’d been working on and clutched her knee.
“You’re sooo clumsy,” a cheeky Australian voice drawled from behind her, surprising Sana and causing her to jump and her stool to rock precariously. Her knee banged into the table again, jostling everything once more.
Sana whirled around and screamed, “BAE! Don’t do that!”
The rat stood behind Sana, one hand on her hip and the other twirling the gleaming gold hammer. She grinned impishly at Sana.
Bae stalked closer and handed the tanned girl the hammer handle first. Sana grabbed the hammer and shot a look of playful annoyance at Chaos. Bae waved her hand and a plastic chair materialised behind her.
“Just popped in for a visit,” she said simply.
Sana went to turn around back to her project, but Bae put a small hand on her leg.
“We need to talk,” she said, more serious than she’d ever been in her life.
Sana sighed. You couldn’t keep anything from Bae for long.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, avoiding the rat’s eyes.
Sana could hear Bae shaking her head, rat ears flapping wildly, and bright red hair waved in the corner of her vision.
“You know there is heaps to talk about,” she said, “You can’t keep it a secret from everyone for much longer.”
Sana looked down at her fingers, and the celestial gold tool in her hands. She didn’t say anything, only biting her lip in silent thought.
“Fine, I won’t push, but you know that we’d support you no matter what. We just need you to talk to us about it, especially Kronii, you know how temperamental Time can be.”
Sana’s heart wrenched at the thought of Kronii. She shook her head violently, refusing to utter a sound. Her hands tightened around the slender shaft of the hammer.
Bae stood up from the chair which immediately vaporised into a flutter of red particles. She pulled Sana into a hug, pressing Sana’s cheeks into her collarbone.
“When you’re ready, then,” Bae whispered.
Sana blinked and Bae was gone, a ghostly touch of her hug lingered for but a moment.
Sana locked the door with a click. As her hands fell away from the heavy brass doorknob, she remembered all the times she had gone through this doorway. The home she had lived in for the past few billion years. It felt like such a long time yet so short.
How many times had she brought friends over? How many times did Council gather under her stars? Parties, sleepovers, movie watch-alongs, game nights. So many precious moments had been created in her observatory.
With a heavy heart, she laid a hand on the heavy wooden door. It thrummed with energy, yet it felt weak and muted. She breathed in and closed her eyes.
Her lips tremored as she spoke an ancient incantation.
When her eyes opened again, they glowed a brilliant golden yellow. A wave of power washed out of Sana, through her hand and into the door. The harsh sound of shaking chains rang loudly as the wave continued outwards into the universe.
She screwed her eyes shut. A trickle of tears squeezed out from under her eyelids as the Heart of Creation was sealed and locked away forever.
“How does that look like a dog?” Mumei screeched, pointing at a couple of stars. One of them was the largest star in the night sky. She wore a determined expression on her face as if she would never leave Sana alone until she told her the reasoning.
Sana laughed quietly behind a hand.
They lay next to each other on a hill. Light bursts of wind periodically blew across, shaking the fine blades of grass that tickled their skin.
“I don’t know! Ask your civilisation that named it!” She said with mirth.
Mumei let loose a squawk in frustration.
“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s your star!”
“I’m being Sirius!” Sana laughed uproariously at her own pun.
Mumei screeched outrageously before breaking into a fit of giggles alongside Sana. As the laughter died down. Sana gnawed on her lip.
She sat up, looking Mumei squarely in the eye.
“MeiMei, we have something to discuss.”
The quirky Guardian sat up as well, suddenly sobered. She tilted her head to the side and blinked. Her owl feathers seemed to wilt as they tilted, drooping dolefully. It was as if they, like their owner, had sensed the sudden shift of mood for the worse.
Floating in the vacant darkness of space, it was oddly calming, though it also reminded Sana that this was a product of her own creativity. She breathed deeply, taking in the scent of what only she could smell in the vacuum.
Sana took of her limiter. This would be the last time, she thought as she looked down at the wiry coil of magic.
The Speaker began to grow in size. The piece of material that sat atop Sana’s head like a crown rapidly shrank between Sana’s fingers. After a moment’s hesitation, she let it go. It floated away from her and within seconds was out of reach. As it got further away from Sana, it seemed to flicker and fizzle.
Then it dissolved into space, blown away by the cosmic rays that zipped between galaxies.
Behind Sana, the chained and locked doors to the Heart of Creation stopped glowing. The shiny metal bolts stopped sparkling in the starlight. It too fell away from Sana, picked up by the gravitational pull of something far, far away.
Fighting the urge to chase after her home and workshop for the past 14 billion years, Sana turned around. In her hands were one last plastic-wrapped loaf of bread – just plain bread – and a pocket watch. The silver finish on the watch glimmered brilliantly despite the dull mood Sana was in. She looked at it and fingered the winder on the artefact nervously.
The button-like crown on the top of the object depressed slightly without engaging. Sana bit her lip again. She wasn’t ready yet.
She pocketed the watch in her ceremonial robes and let the current of the universe carry her.
Fauna wrapped Sana in an extremely tight embrace, threatening to pop her eyes out.
“Thank you for giving life so many amazing places to grow and flourish in,” she whispered in Sana’s ear. Feeling Sana’s arms slink around her waist to return the hug, Fauna squeezed even harder.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see it all, but maybe one day Mumei and I will work together, and we’ll be able to see all of it. Every single last beautiful corner in this universe.”
Sana pulled back and looked at Fauna’s tea-green eyes. The gentle green orbs reflected the starlight beautifully. Fauna’s hands trailed down Sana’s arms as they moved apart until she caught Sana’s hands in her own. The Speaker started to sniffle as the Kirin looked sadly at her.
“FauFau…” she started but trailed off. Her mouth moved soundlessly for a few seconds as she struggled to get a grip on her emotions.
“I’ll always be watching. Wherever nature and civilisation go, as long as there’s a night sky, I’ll be there.”
Fauna smiled and gripped Sana’s hands tighter. Sana's heart cinched with guilt at the lie.
“Do you promise?” She asked softly.
“Promise.”
Sana lay her head on the stellar nursery on the outskirts of her universe. Whisps of her strawberry blonde hair floated messily around her head, forming a halo and tickling her face.
Denser clouds of the nebula brushed against her and ruffled her clothes. Usually, she found it calming but now it was almost bittersweet. Sana swiped her hand slowly through the cloud of stardust and gas. The iridescent particles swirled and spiralled in the wake of the movement.
Sana’s other hand rubbed the smooth silver finish on her pocket watch. The green, orange and purple glow of the nebula caught on the scratches and etches of the metal as she flipped it around in her hand. Little spots of heat and light shone through the murky mixture of cosmic matter and glinted off the edges of the watch.
The Speaker of Space chewed her lip, something she had been doing more and more often recently. She looked down at the tiny object in her hand. It was so insignificant yet so very important at the same time. How could such a small item contain so much power?
As the nursery slowly weaved and shuffled around her, Sana held the tiny thing up to her face. She watched as the opaline, lustrous lights of the nebula shimmered off the surface of the polished silver.
Sana knew that she would be hurting the others when it was time to go, Kronii more than the rest. Kronii was the final person she wanted to see before leaving. Since Time was the first to greet her into this universe, she felt that Time should also be the one to see her off.
She took a breath. She was ready.
Sana pressed the winder. With a smooth pop and a click, the pocket watch flipped open. A loud and crisp tick-tock, tick-tock emanated from behind the thin crystal face of the watch. As seconds passed, the movement in the glowing clouds slowed. The distant stars stopped twinkling, frozen in their moment of bright or dim. The Speaker pushed against a nearby wall of orange stardust, it gave, but it felt heavier and sluggish. The pull of gravity of the shifting mass seemed slower to respond. Unnaturally long periods of silence separated the ticks from the tocks.
Sana had slowed down time. It was something she had borrowed from Ame’s book but nonetheless was a guaranteed way to attract the attention of a certain Warden.
The universe rumbled in anger.
“WHO DARES– Sana?“
The thunder of an enraged deity quickly petered out to a meek and confused voice.
“I- I’m not talking to you,” Kronii huffed.
Sana looked around, trying to locate the source of the voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
“Kronini, please,” Sana said to the empty space. She twirled around, hoping the Warden of Time would show herself.
In response to Sana’s pleading was absolute silence.
“Kronii!” The blonde whined, “I’m begging you, can we just talk? Please?”
The universe sighed. Kronii blinked into existence, floating right in front of Sana. Her arms were crossed under her chest and her head turned to the side. Although the gravity was microscopic and non-unform, Kronii’s hair and clothes still seemed to be pulled ‘downwards’.
She didn’t say anything, she just stared at a distant star. Sana was a massive celestial body, many times larger than Kronii, yet she felt extremely small before the icy attitude of the blue-haired deity.
“Kronii I’m sorry for not telling you about it earlier,” Sana began. Kronii didn’t react, her face was stony and peaceful, yet undoubtedly carried a faint expression of anger and sadness.
“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” she continued, her arm raised but fell back down, as if she couldn’t decide whether it was ok to touch the Warden.
“I was scared,” Sana admitted. Finally, Kronii slumped. She turned to meet Sana’s eyes. Sapphire blue met golden brown and locked together. Billions of years of history passed between the two.
Kronii’s face softened and Sana took that as a sign that she was in the clear.
She knelt on the nebula and cupped her hands beneath the tiny Warden of Time. As Sana’s massive hands made contact with Kronii’s boots, Kronii whispered, “Oh, Sana…”
Though sound could never travel in space, Sana heard the utterance clearly.
Kronii’s arms unfurled from her torso, and she breathed out as Sana brought her closer to her face. Still, she said nothing. She only stared blankly as Sana’s taffy-brown skin drew closer.
“Kronini,” Sana said quietly, “You know I have to go.”
Kronii huffed.
“I know,” she said extremely faintly, “I just–“
She blushed and growled. Kronii was too proud to admit it, but Sana already knew what she was thinking.
“It’s ok, I get it,” she shushed Kronii, “I just wanted to say goodbye.”
Kronii crossed her arms again. Blinking rapidly, she started to sniffle. Sana cooed, trying to calm Kronii’s emotions but being so much larger, she found it hard to do anything.
The Warden was still standing stoically on Sana’s palm but soon the cold façade broke down and she was wiping her tears away with delicate gloved hands.
“I’m supposed to be mad at you for not telling us earlier, for just leaving so suddenly,” she said, fighting through sobs and weak little fluctuations in her voice.
She brushed at her eyes furiously, maddened that tears were spilling unbidden. Sana wanted to say sorry or at least wrap Kronii in a comfort hug that told her everything would be fine.
But the Speaker of Space could only look down on the smaller woman as she struggled to reign in her tears. It was as if Kronii had commanded time to freeze and all Sana could do was watch.
With another bitter growl, Kronii looked up at the giant Sana’s face. Resentment in her eyes, Kronii uttered a choked “Bye, Sana.”
And then with a tick of a second hand, Kronii disappeared.
Time resumed normally for the universe. Stars twinkled rightly, the nebula swirled beautifully.
Her heart fell. She wanted to – no, needed to – talk more with Kronii. Just a little bit longer. A few more minutes, seconds. One more laugh. One more sentence. It was all Sana needed. A burning desire to tell the Warden just one last thing.
Sana desperately clicked the winder on the stopwatch. But nothing happened. She clicked it again. Still nothing. A hollow feeling sunk into her as she realised this was all she was going to get from the perfect Warden.
Something angry and wild welled up from within her and with a cry of anger, she threw the watch. Watching it fly further into the inky blackness of space left a bitter taste in her mouth. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! They were supposed to talk, hug, cry and then Kronii was going to see her off with a watery smile.
With a burst of irritation and a hint of spite, Sana flicked a finger and the artefact zoomed away at near light speeds, disappearing forever in a bubble of contracted space.
Within a fraction of a second, the pocket watch was as good as gone.
Too late, it registered that Sana had thrown away her only possible connection to Kronii. If nothing else, she had wanted to keep it with her as a reminder of their times together.
She stared sadly in the direction the pocket watch had headed but made no effort to chase after it.
It was too late now. Not even Sana could magically retrieve items lost in space. Sana and Kronii’s final goodbye had bestowed no closure. She couldn’t have imagined any way it could’ve gone worse. Even Kronii outright ignoring her would’ve been better than the sight of those stormy, angry eyes and quiet crying.
Sana slowly turned away. It was as if a planet had been placed on her shoulders. Every movement she made was slow and difficult.
Might as well get it over with now, she thought to herself, there was nothing left for her here anymore. She looked at the roiling stellar nursery below and around her. It wasn’t a bad spot. It was a beautiful scene capable of enrapturing the soul and hypnotising the mind for hours on end. If only Sana had the mind or heart to enjoy the vision these scintillating clouds presented.
She closed her eyes and focused, channelling celestial energy once more. Power radiated out across dimensions, seeking something very specific. What she was looking for was a single, infinitesimally small point in space-time. Such a point was a gateway for Sana to travel through. Gateways between universes. A time and a place where everything was just right.
These gates only occurred twice in a universe’s lifetime, which was why Sana had always known she would need to be leaving at this precise time.
Then, she found it. Like a perfectly tuned instrument, something resonated perfectly, and Sana locked on. She began to glow as more and more energy welled up from within. As her skin grew brighter than a thousand supernovae, Sana started shouting. It was a cry of strength, like how martial artists yelled to increase striking power.
However, she added so much more into the yell. She was also screaming in frustration and anguish for lost time and chances. There was so much more she wanted to do! She’d finally found someone special, only to be ripped away from her. 14 billion years wasn’t enough time.
As Sana’s power peaked along with the tears that had started flowing, she felt something embrace her. Like the coolness of entropy enveloping her and giving her a kiss. The auras of spatial power and temporal power intermingled, as they always did without fail within every universe.
Kronii!
Sana wanted to stop the ritual and cry out. There was still something she needed to say! But she knew that if she stopped now, she would never be able to find the gateway again. Kronii seemed to know too, as she poured her own power into Sana’s well.
Sana fought and struggled.
“No! Wait I have to tell you something!” She wanted to yell at the cosmos. But the powers of two deities were running away from control, she couldn't afford to do anything else than channel the energy. Involuntary tears fell renewed. Kronii was so close, yet Sana still could not say the one thing she had wanted to say for the past billion years.
Now it was too late. Far too late.
The energy reached a critical level and with a crack, the current universe snapped out of focus, as if suddenly Sana was seeing everything from a distant, untuned lens. And then everything turned white, burning so bright a human would’ve had their eyes fried.
The gateway was like a river in a tunnel, it carried her from her universe, towards the next. Sana no longer had any control as the interconnected points between two dimensions seemed to create a magnetic field only she could be affected by.
As Sana felt the universe slip away from her reality, she also felt the embrace of Time rolling off her body, as if she had been unwillingly yanked out of a warm, comfortable bath on a winter’s night. Sana turned around, grasping at Time, but it was like a vapour, deftly dodging her hand and pouring between her fingers.
“Kronii!” She cried desperately. Sana looked at the shrinking black dot against white that was the rapidly disappearing universe. She ignored the tears that streamed liberally down her face. Everything was numb. Only the violent splitting feeling in her heart dominated her senses.
Sana tried to paw her way back, fighting against the stream of Kronii and her combined powers. But it was no use, she was being carried too quickly away from the previous universe and Kronii. Soon, her past 14 billion years was just a speck in the distance.
As the next universe grew larger on the other side of the tunnel, Sana wept, cradling her knees to her chest. She had always looked forward to starting again in a new universe. New beginnings, new laws of physics, new things to make. But this time, she had no motivation for any of that. Sana just wanted to be with Kronii.
She looked up as the tunnel was ending. The next universe was growing so very large. As soon as she was through the gate, this connection would close forever, and Sana would never see Kronii again.
She no longer had any fight in her. She had thrashed and fought and cried, all were fruitless actions. Sana had given up.
Just before she entered the new universe though, Sana heard a whisper. It was faint and it echoed, reverberating hazily around her, but it was short, and Sana understood clearly only because it was the very thing she had on her mind on repeat.
“I love you,” Kronii said.
And then the next universe boomed into existence before Sana. A rush of information prickled Sana’s senses. The brilliant white light flared up again around her. The gateway slammed shut and she was cut off from Kronii forever.
But Sana felt less disheartened than only moments earlier because without her saying anything, Kronii had understood what Sana wanted to say, and she responded.
A humanoid form popped into existence in front of Sana.
“Hello, Speaker of Space,” it spoke in a deep, masculine voice. He had blue hair and blue eyes and was dressed pristinely in suit and tie even in the empty vacuum of space. His presence radiated an aura of temporal power. Sana’s breath hitched for a second of recognition, but this was clearly not Kronii.
“I’m the Warden of Time, Krono, and I believe you are–” he checked his wristwatch, “Just in time.”
Then he stopped. His face grew quizzical, and his eyes shifted to look at Sana’s dress before looking back up at her.
“You come sponsored by the previous Warden?”
“What?” Sana asked in confusion while wiping her eyes dry.
Krono waved a lazy hand at Sana’s pocket.
“You bear the mark of a colleague.”
Sana patted her dress and felt a small disk. She thrust her hand into the pocket and fished out– she gasped in shock– a pocket watch. The pocket watch.
She clicked the winder and the plate flipped open. A glowing blue clock projected out from the normal face of the watch and Sana trembled. She knew the feeling of this power. It was similar yet so very distinct from Krono’s. This aura was Kronii’s and Kronii’s alone.
She closed the watch and held it to her chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered to the gods.
“Well, come now, I suppose we have work to do,” Krono said briskly, starting to get impatient.
Sana returned the watch to her pocket and nodded.
They looked at the blackness of the universe. Not a star, planet nor even a single photon could be seen. And that was going to change very soon, Sana thought.
Sana was not alone.