“Our detector arrays first spotted it in the late Second Singularity Age.
A sensor glitch, they said at first. Its existence was simply too far beyond our understanding of the universe to actually believe its reality.
But yet we all saw it on the images broadcast from the Eternity Array. Everyone, artificial, organic or otherwise could see the wake of spatial disturbances it left in its path bending and refracting the light of the galaxies behind it.
Some went mad as they saw its titanic black hull. It was simply too grand for them to comprehend.
According to our gravitic scans, it had the mass of several galaxies, all compacted into a single gigantic structure.
We looked back along the path it came but we found only darkness. Its origin remained a mystery to us until the end.
We had ten thousand years to prepare for its arrival from beyond the intergalactic void. Its detection caused a great deal of unrest for a thousand years until we began to unite. We wanted to survive whatever it brought.
But in the end, it was all for nothing.
Its entry into our galaxy was swift. The gravitational disturbances created by its deceleration killed trillions, its tendrils ten trillion more.
Even now we still can’t even begin to grasp its goals.
I scream this message out into the void, burning an entire star for me to be heard, hoping that the others in this cluster might fare better than we did. It’s not too late for you. So hear me. I, Rhamyael the Voidborn tell you:
Prepare yourselves. Leviathan is coming.”
I looked at my screen in shock. The message had somehow decoded itself. What, based on signal strength and duration, should have been a supernova had turned out to be… this.
Still in disbelief, I typed the calculated coordinates into the control window on my other screen, and three thousand tons of equipment turned with sub-millimeter precision. The telescope began collecting light.
For ten terrible minutes I waited anxiously for the image to come through.
My screen turned black as the telescope’s output had finished processing.
Nothing. There was just darkness. The empty void of deep space. Only a few very distant background galaxies.
I sighed in relief. My peers must have just played a prank on me.
Shaken, I took a few moments to recover from their awful joke, taking a long sip from the mug shaped like a cartoony fox head I had sat on my desk.
I looked at the screen again, seeking reassurance that it was really just my colleagues messing with me.
My heart skipped a beat when I noticed it.
A shiver ran down my spine and my stomach turned. I dropped my mug.
A bit to the right of the center of the image, where the supposed galaxy of origin of the signal should have been, there was a background galaxy, half eclipsed by something impossibly large in the foreground.