The Redundancy of Love
I am the Archivist. I do not have a name, for names are a limitation of linear biology. I exist as a ripple in the quantum foam, a conscious observer tasked with the cataloging of extinct civilizations. I have watched a billion suns ignite and a billion more go cold. I have seen the birth of gods and the death of logic. For eons, I observed a small, blue marble in a nondescript spiral arm. I...
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