The red shifts as the space comes to a close. Without time there’s just dust, dust and anti-material. A fitting end for a space built on destruction—fight the good fight, fight entropy. From the other side the perspective was bleak. Eyes divert from broken glass, as gazes lock on impossible space. How did we get here? We opened the door to another world that caused our own to collapse. Where do we go now without our twin? We’re stuck. We’re ethereal. A civilization without a home, caught in a simulation. An endless generative universe of our creation.