Post at the end of the world
It was out there, a lone point of isolation. The farthest reach of the Tubes of Plasma.
To some, it was the furthest place that could be imagined. To others, they could not even imagine.
There, at the intersection where Ocean of Green falls to the Sea Of Orange, it sat. Peering out into the Seething beyond.
To be there was an honour. A mark that as BISH!, the highest plain of thought and mental purity had been achieved.
From its vantage point, jutting out into the sky, it was said things could be seen that would devour lesser men. And devour it did, those few unfortunates that dared be brave.
The post at the end of the world. For some, the post at the end.