Chapter Text
“So,” Sherlock sighed, mouth curled downwards and fingers fluttering out to gesture at the figure before, above, and below him, “here it is. Yet another answer to one of life’s great many questions laid bare with frustrating simplicity. This particular inquiry, of course, being whether or not we are alone in the universe.”
The detective's back was straight, though not overly stiff as he sat with his legs crossed, calves and feet pointed downwards over the edge of the massive, metal palm.
He lightly traced his index finger over the chipping paint on the corresponding digit of the titan’s, mind clicking away the exact comparative scale between the two of them rounding down to three decimal places. Both himself and the hand were bathed in a soft blue light emanating from the being's equally massive eyeballs, casting flickering shadows over lazily curled phalanges. The intensity shifted from time to time; brightness seeming to correlate with the appearances of nouns in Sherlock’s sentences.
Interesting. A conscious reaction or something instinctual?
“A bewildering aspect of ordinary people… They’re so preoccupied with what might be brewing up and away from earth that they utterly neglect to really look at what is being presented right in front of them.”
The immobile face of the proud-red symbol stared silently back at him from in between cacophonous white and blue racing stripes.
“To think then, that after all these years of collective pondering. Hundreds upon thousands of people devoting their lives to fixating collective eyeballs upon the heavens. Minds whirling and burning out as they imagine countless worlds with an unnumbered populous, that we should come to the inescapable conclusion …”
Sighing again ever so slightly, Sherlock leaned forward to clasp his left kneecap with both hands and honed his gaze piercingly upward into those big, blue eyes.
“…That there truly is no intelligent life in the universe after-all.”
“Dude,” Smokescreen laughed, “your accent is hilarious.”