Being in space was strange for Abaddon.
He had spent so many years as the living consciousness of the cosmos that now that the two were separated, he felt a bit awkward being inside of it.
It was like having one of your limbs removed, but still being able to touch it.
He kept waiting for the sensation of touch to light up his synapses, but that didn't happen.
It honestly made him a little sad. However, there wasn't much time for him to concentrate on something as unimportant as feelings.
Abaddon allowed his body to drift around the sun's orbit.
His eyes were shut as if he were already asleep. It was as if he had relinquished all control over his body and submitted himself to the will of the cosmos.
A large, silver box floated in sync with Abaddon's movements. They aimlessly traveled together through the cold recesses of space for several minutes with no change.
Eventually, there was a change.
