Searchers hovering through the deserts. Spotlights emanating from a central set of turrets, like the eyes of a spider. Photons spreading through the dunes, glinting off of the reflectors left by ancients. Looking. Never finding. Always ready, for that which is forever away.
Who are the Searchers?
They are many. They are those from the outer worlds, come to seek freedom, glory, truth, or just a quick buck. Young and old, male and female, soldiers and seamstresses, physicists and priests. One thing holds them in common. One thing binds them together. They may never give up the search. In the search, all go blind. They see instead with the metal eyes of their infinite spider-ships.
Searching in the endless ring desert. Searching for the truth. Long ago, those that came before the last universal collapse created the cosmic Moebius Strip, unaffected by gravity or magnetism. A wasteland that extends millions of miles in all directions. Somewhere, they have hidden their secrets. An octodecillion yottabytes of many trillions of years of knowledge.
A grain of sand, slightly different from the others, holds the last universe. The particle is hollow, larger on the inside than the outside. Within it is the library. This is known. A single structure stands on the ring. A graphite cube, approximately 6.5012896705403891365758182663347 units in width and height.
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