It was approaching year two on the kids voyage across space. By now, every corner of their complex had been explored and exploited. The children who were destined to become gods only had one enemy left: ennui. Rose and Kanaya sat atop the hurtling bolide and watched unrecognizable objects whiz by. This went on for hours in absolute silence. Finally, Rose spoke.
"You know, back on Earth, we used to romanticize space. Ask any child before age eight what they wanted to be when they grew up and the automatic answer would almost always be an astronaut. Perhaps it was because up here there's limitless possibilities, because up here we can be unfettered from responsibilities and moral qualms. In truth I also believed that misconception. But now I realize, space is horrifying. Its constantly changing, theres no feeling of familiarity. Out here, the maw of space does not discriminate, your achievements or follies are nonexistent. The nothingness knows it is truly unsurmountable. It humbles even the greatest of gods."

Her words were engulfed by the void. It was once again only Rose, Kanaya, and the vast continued rocketing through the labyrinthine vacuum enraptured by quietude.