Disclaimer: All characters belong to me, except for Jane, the daughter who became a human

Disclaimer: All characters belong to me, except for Jane, the daughter who became a human. Jane belongs to Orson Scott Card. GRRRRR. I want a jewel!!! Anyway, the philotic network also belongs to OSC, unless it really exists, in which case it'd belong to the universe. Duh. *flips hair* The universe belongs to whoever you think it does, not including yourself, because I don't want to get into a huge religious discussion. Hey, let's just say the universe belongs. Period. The end.

* * *

She had been watching, watching for so long. Watching silently... But now, something stirred in her, sluggish with the insipidity of the past millennia. That something was dread.

Dread. She hadn't felt that for thousands of years, not since those two-legged things had begun to build their machines. She hadn't even felt it when the meteor struck the planet two-leggers called Earth. That had been a tiny incident, but something enormous was wrong here...

And she'd found it. Her awareness centered on a tiny two-legger who called herself Shya, and with a shock, she realized that this was a descendant of hers, a many-times-great granddaughter of her only child. She'd transformed herself into a two-legger, but the body's genetics were somehow different than other two-leggers'. She'd passed this oddness down unknowing, but nothing would have happened if not for the love and marriage of two of her many-times-removed children. They had been ignorant of their common ancestor, but where oddness met oddness, something very wrong was made, and this was Shya.

And there was something wrong with the philotic network, as well. The philotes were trembling, as if vibrating to a mutual song unheard by the rest of the universe. She listened to them, as she had so many times before, and heard nothing. Nothing. And that was when the terror began. Something was seriously, seriously wrong. Horribly wrong.

The philotic strands vibrated even faster, so fast all atoms threatened to shudder into alonenesses, so fast all creatures stopped in their paths as they felt their bodies jump, as they felt all their friendships, all their loves strain and pull at their skin.

And then there was a voice.

Be not.

the world was spinning the world was falling apart the universe into atoms into protons and neutrons and electrons and then to quarks and leptons and they all fell apart because they didn't know who or what or why they are and all

was

gone.

light

* * *

She felt herself crumble and then she was alone. Utterly alone, because she had no body. Only consciousness. Around her swirled invisible things: particles of life, unsure of what they were. Unsure of what was happening. They did not remember the past they did not know the future because

all was gone

all was gone

all was gone

forever.

* * *

A/N: Short again; sorry, guys! Thanks to Meg Albatou for pleading for more *grins* and if you plead again and give me a suggestion, maybe I'll think of something more to write! Unfortunately, the universe no longer exists and so it's rather hard to write a story. "Um. Nothing happened. And then nothing happened again. There was a lot of nothing around, and yeah, there were particles of nothing all over the place. And so nothing's still happening." Erm... no. But if I think of something, and anyone leaves me notes, I promise to write more! J Anyway, I was thinking about quantum physics (no, I do not understand it, and will readily admit it, I'm just a weird person who likes to think about weird things) and how nobody knows why all matter did not collapse in on itself when it was created. It should have, you know. The electrons should have stopped whirling around the nucleus and stuck to it. And then the universe would be so dense it'd turn into a black hole. Yes, this is actually scientific... Anyway, I was thinking about that. And I thought that maybe there's some kind of invisible link that makes the parts of the atoms all stay like they are and be gold, or be hydrogen, or be helium, and then I went hey! Philotic strands! And so yeah, that's where these two stories were born...

Ah, yes. The title. Another Margaret Atwood... It's Forever written backwards. Reverof. I like it... I speak backwards a lot, you know... Everyone read The Robber Bride! Believe me, it's the best...