"1 if by space. 2 if by inter-dimensional wormhole," the young girl with silver eyes told me. "The terrans are comings."
"That's wonderful, of course," I said, "but aren't we the terrans?"
"Silly goose," she laughed, "most of these thoughts don't even belong to you. You're not entitled to everything."
"I just need 6 numbers. The first 5 are..."
"That's not how divination works. Besides, the game's rigged for someone else. Nevermind such trivium," she warned. "Look up. It's time to for you to see." Her hand reached out into the night sky towards something I choose not to describe.
"It's beautiful," I confessed.
"Yes, it is. Sweet sorrow. That's how the end should always be."
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