"My children. My teachers. My loves. There is no guilt. There is no blame - only what is meant to be." -Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan, upon the sacrifice of her life.

BUT IS IT MEANT TO BE?



Through the astral plane, a plane devoid of space and time, an entity was. The being was formless, shapeless, devoid of substance entirely. Though lacking matter, it was not lacking in life. It was certainly alive, clearly possessing intellect and willpower. It moved with purpose through the cosmos, travelling along with a set objective in its mind. It whispered one word, its soundless voice travelling emptily across the astral. One word and one alone did it utter, over and over again, "Moya."