And We Will Sing into the Void — Part Seven
By Samantha L. Strong
And then those I called strike a chord of brilliance, and I wonder, for the first time I can ever recall, if another like me exists to hear their rapturous refrain, echoing out into the night.
The rogue consciousness rolls to and fro, striking at random. Its fury shimmies down its cord, fueling my resolve. It won’t hear me, but I snarl, “Selfish!” back. As more of my children fall, others hear my summons and, buoyed by their comrades’ confidence, join the anthem. They sing to the Bloated One; they sing to me; they sing to themselves. And when their anthem turns inward, they’re singing for themselves.
It is a majestic aria rivaling—enhancing—the gleam of the stars.
The Bloated One’s eye-body darkens. It is blackening, a hue I’ve never seen on myself before. It greedily sucks down photons, but my army widens their eyes to catch more, too.
The points of consciousness meld. The song reaches a fevered pitch. The cords vibrate together, striking down those fattened sycophants cowering around the Bloated One.
As all my chosen children strike one final bar of their heavenly melody, pupils wide, cords taut, their consciousness merges.
And for the first time I can ever recall, I am no longer alone in the void. Another consciousness, massive and staid and brimming with quiet intelligence, blinks into existence. I taste its first words, rolling mauve across my core: I am!
The Bloated One sucks its last eyeful of photons, shakes violently, and then goes still.
This was the moment I was waiting for. I yank with much more force than needed, and it snaps into my body, pulling several of its lifeless followers with. The others, I will deal with shortly.
As the strain of holding congruence proves too much for my little chosen ones, the new, enormous consciousness blinks out of existence. Gone, but not forgotten, I am certain it will live again. I can be patient for a companion now that I know I might have one.
The song has dissolved now, my choir weeping of their own accord at the beauty they created. They’re touched, changed, and so am I. I’ve never seen my children work in such harmony. I never dreamt this outcome in all my aeons of existence. They clump themselves, singing, awed at their own power. Multi-consciousnesses flicker in and out of my awareness, and I smell sweet, mazarine-tinged solar wind.
Cradled in its mother’s arms, Uncanny Newborn awakens. It has been sleeping, sheltered—or perhaps lulled?—by the song. It blinks toward our sun, drinking the new, delicious sustenance blowing softly across its tiny body. Echoes of the notes from moment ago shiver along its cord.
It looks away, out toward my Efflorescent Artistry. The photons are so few, I can see as they enter the newborn’s pupil.
What’s this? After all that’s happened, my astonishment comes as a surprise. And yet… And yet!
Not only a new flavor, but a new color! Wonder of wonders, joy of joys! Far beyond purple, it ignites my senses with the heliotrope-tinged fuchsia—but no, more than that, something muskier than violet. An ultra-color. An ultra-violet.
Ultraviolet, I decide. Yes. It fits.
And that’s when I realize I have glimpsed the first changes—the first of many more.
I am changing. I am evolving. And I have no more patience for those who refuse to work in harmony together.
I have the power, the tools, the consciousness to stop the greedy ones from prevailing. My children and I can work together to overcome any blight that would grow upon us.
Songs ripple across my surface, songs of joy and triumph and passion.
Blissful, Uncanny Newborn snuggles against its mother and drifts off to sleep, safe and warm. Its mother pulls it close, and peace echoes down her cord into my core, ultraviolet and glowing.
Samantha L. Strong writes dark and beautiful SFF stories about complicated characters. Like many Elder Millennials, she’d like to become an herbalist and live in an abandoned, haunted nunnery somewhere far away from people.
Samantha’s short fiction has appeared in Amazing Stories, AE: The Science Fiction Review, and elsewhere, and she’s the former Executive Editor at Flash Fiction Online. She has four novels out about angels and demons: her Fallen Redemption trilogy and a companion novel. You can find her on Instagram and TikTok @SamanthaLStrong, and more of her writing is available on her website www.samanthalstrong.com.
Copyright © 2025 Samantha Sabovitch