The Void-Drifter did not glide through the Great Chaos; it tore through it like a heated needle through frozen silk.
Outside the reinforced viewports of the obsidian vessel, the laws of physics had been replaced by a tumultuous grey static.
This was the "Outside," the primordial soup from which universes were born and into which they were inevitably recycled. Aegis sat in the pilot's seat, his nerves fused with the ship's sensory array. Every buffet of the chaotic mists felt like a blow to his own ribs.
"The structural integrity of the hull is fluctuating between three and four dimensions," Bella reported, her voice strained as she channeled the Frost-Stabilization into the ship's bulkheads.
"The Chaos is trying to define us as 'Non-Existent.' If I lose my focus for even a micro-second, we will all become a cloud of unorganized sub-particles."
