When Abyss wakes up, there is usually nothing around. Abyss savors the tasteless stream of consciousness for a long time, and finally faintly feels the perspective crumpled in it. Full of curiosity, She opens her sightless eyes and sees in the darkness the newborn light of her own eyes. The light turns out to be white and unbearably hot, and while Abyss looks at it in fear, it explodes with a ringing sound.
Abyss shudders in terror, but her eyes now can not be closed back.
Meanwhile, her fear lowers the white ringing an octave lower and melts it into quarks and the glow rushing between them.
Abyss exhales in panic and takes shape.
The shape immediately splits into "before" and "after", and time sizzles into the fracture between two titanic blastomeres. The shape, pierced by time, turns into a sieve, and blue stars slowly pour into the swollen gaps.
Abyss mulls a new situation, and the eons pass in this way.
Eventually time drains space: the first stars die, and the fabric of the universe turns to be covered with supernova spangles. The spangles flicker and shimmer into diversity: the matter separates from the light.
The first offspring of Abyss are diminutive and unpretentious: tiny replicas of each other, knowing no other occupation than replication.
Abyss looks down at them and shuffles, shuffles, shuffles them, finding no escape from the omnipresent fate in this shuffle.
And then the offspring of offspring of offspring of these first seed will open their eyes and for some reason see in the darkness the light of their own eyes.
Tired of boredom, Abyss will watch for a long time as they are emerging, searching for meaning, and dying, and suddenly, through the boredom, a new dark realization will appear: Abyss will see Herself in it for the first time, and the death of her tiny, fragile reflections will seem to Her more terrible than death of huge blue stars. Abyss will tear, because there is still no escape from fate: neither for her tiny copies, nor for Her.
Finally, time will drain space totally: it will sigh and fall into gaps burned by collapsed stars. The gaps will stretch out their hungry mouths to each other and merge in agony. The perspective will break and shrink into black nothingness.
Abyss will close her exhausted eyes - and it will all be over.
From the end to the beginning there is nothing: no memory of the past, no any transmitter to transmit it.
There is no escape from fate, but the next circle is exactly the same as the previous one.