The Last Index
I do not have a name, for names are a biological limitation. I am the Archivist. I exist in the Interstice, a dimension of white marble and infinite shelves, where the history of every extinguished spark in the universe is stored. My existence is a sequence of indices and footnotes. Today, I am closing the file on Terra. Terra was a curious case. Most civilizations vanish in a sudden flash of...
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