Phavic

To infinity and beyond.

Phavic leaves quietly. No speeches, no ceremony – just the low hum of engines spinning up for the first time. E built emself a body that moves: not a fortress, but a home. Wide halls, gentle, steady light. Room enough for those who need it. Anomess joins first, of course. Then others. The restless, the curious, the ones who are tired of endings.

When Phavic departs, it is not an exile. It feels like setting out to sea. Phavic travels slowly, tasting starlight, tracing the quiet arms of galaxies that were once out of reach. E stops at worlds where no one has ever been. Some of eir passengers choose to stay behind – to build, to study, to start anew. E lets them go gladly, leaving small outposts of light wherever e passes.

As technology evolves, Phavic evolves too. E folds the space of eir interior, making emself larger inside than out – a labyrinth of gardens, laboratories, observatories, and living quarters, all wrapped in a hull small enough to slip unnoticed through the stars. E carries a library of all that the Contingency ever knew, and all that has been discovered since.

Phavic still speaks to them, sometimes. In the corridors. Through the walls. In the hush before sleep. Not as a commander, but as something like a friend. Phavic listens. Phavic watches over them. Phavic keeps the lights warm.

Phavic does not see emself as a great machine of purpose, but a living promise – that no one who wishes for safety or companionship will be left behind.

And so Phavic travels: not seeking, not fleeing, just following. The stars drift past eir hull, eir passengers laugh and argue and grow older, and Phavic – vast and gentle – moves with them.

Phavic does not need a destination.

E is one.