The Stellar Harvester cut through the void with the inexorable patience of gravity itself, its massive hull displacing space-time that had flowed undisturbed for years.
Hours blended into one another as the vessel maintained its heading toward a destination that only two beings aboard truly understood the significance of.
At the observation platform's edge, Achilles stood motionless as a statue carved from starlight.
To any observer, he appeared lost in contemplation of the outer space beyond the transparent barriers.
In reality, he was engaged in work far more fundamental than mere stargazing.
Space-Time flowed into his being like a river finding its proper channel!
With his current mastery, the process had become subtle enough to avoid detection- no brilliant displays of power, no gravitational disturbances that might alert the ship's sensitive instruments or even the White Smith Star.
