::'''''Small Worlds'''''
::''Chapter Twenty-Five''

"So, what now?" asked Vaniah casually.

"You don't have a PLAN?!" screamed Werther.

"Well, for the black hole, yeah; my plan is "get the hell out of the way before they smash into us."

The wooster jolted up just in time for a blurred, compressed space station to pass under it. Coincidentally, it also did this just in time for a meteor to collide with it halfway up.

Werther swore under her breath.

"What'sss the damage?" Visstor inquired.

"The engine was knocked out. We should be out of the range of the black hole, but we're heading off in a random direction. Hopefully, we'll run into a world on the way."

Vaniah slid his gun out of its holster. "In that case, it's high time to recreate a world."
Five months later and light-years across The Void, a woman, suspended in mid-air, will be smacked in the head by a gigantic vessel that appeared out of nowhere. The impact will give her a brief flash of insight, and she will realize that, for whatever reason, that idiot would rather have kept his damn gun than held up his end of the bargain, even if it cost him his life (which it had not, incidentally).

She will not have much time to contemplate this, however, as she will be brought aboard said vessel in a matter of minutes. Framing this in the present, of course, this is actually a matter of five months and some minutes. This will likely be important later on, but since it has not yet happened, disregard it for now.

If necessary, retrieve an aspirin before continuing.