As Aleph raised their gaze towards the sky, they saw no stars there. Aleph knew there were none, they had never seen them. But when they found themselves alone on the outside of the Sphere, where their vision could truly be cast outward instead of in, Aleph would lift their many eyes to the heavens in an infinitesimally small moment of anticipation that would ultimately be broken the moment they saw nothing but an endless black void.
There were things out there, yes, Aleph knew. The old stars that had turned to iron, frozen planets that had been nothing for a billion years. A few remaining Serpents. But no stars. There was nothing they, or anyone, could do about that. Aleph lowered their head and continued their trek across the outer shell. What things lay in the darkness outside the Sphere was not of their concern. But inside, tens of thousands of kilometers below, there was a problem. The tiny core of the last sun, the thing that had given their inverted world some last light and warmth, was almost at the end of its life.
This was the curse of the final people, born into a reality on its last breath. Made to watch the death of infinity. Made to bear witness to the precession of time into its final state where everything would end. It was all anyone talked about, all they thought about. They hated time. This was the conclusion of all the science, logic, and rhetoric that Aleph had heard throughout their life. That the Pattern of the universe, the driving logic, whatever it was, was being worn away by something that civilizations for a trillion years had thought was a simple fact of this reality. And so the People of the Sphere had devised a plan that they now pursued with single-minded devotion and all-encompassing mania. They were going to turn their sun into a black hole. From what Aleph had understood, it would go as follows: The core, resting in the center of the sphere, would be compressed, thus increasing its density past the critical threshold and creating a black hole. The math would have been done such that the People, who lived on the inner surface, would be at exactly the event horizon. The top minds of the People concluded this would grant an eternal moment, an instant that would, relatively speaking, stretch on for infinity for everyone in the Sphere. The black hole would, of course, destroy the Sphere and everyone on it in a fraction of a second after its creation, but this was not a concern to those who believed in the power of the black hole to grant them Eternity. And this was every one of the trillion inhabitants in the Sphere, save Aleph.
When they had learned about this, Aleph had been so horrified that they decided they had no choice but to leave before this event transpired. They hatched a complex plan to make their way to the outside of the Sphere, find an ancient launch vessel, and get as far away as possible. This was not, however, a choice between life and death. As Aleph came into view of the old ship, they knew it would not sustain them long. Yes, they would have enough supplies to live for a while, to make peace with the deity long forgotten by others, but they Aleph would still die. But the alternative, they had concluded, was much worse. The People thought their sun, reborn as a black hole, would be their saviour, and deliver them into a new infinity, but Aleph thought otherwise.
Shortly, Aleph was in the cockpit of the old ship, monitoring the systems as the engines began warming up after being dormant for a millennium. Simultaneously, he listened to the Sphere-wide broadcast of the progression of the People's plan.
'...And it will be soon that we make the final step in the destruction of the Great Beast that has been devouring us forever, and devours our beautiful star even as we speak. We leave behind the precession of time and eons that we and a billion billion others had held so dearly. And on this day, as we transmute the- '
Aleph stopped dead. It wasn't supposed to happen today, it was supposed to be tomorrow. One full cycle of travel was all Aleph could manage to get, as he had to plan down to the minute to make it all work. He knew he had to leave now, but the ship wasn't ready, and he had to be sure he heard right. Aleph held his breath and listened.
'-from giver of light, warmth, and life, into an even more beautiful form, to grant it and all of us the eternity we so deserve. And now, siblings, we move into infinity.'
'No, no, no, no, no,' Aleph pleaded with the last of the breath in their lungs. They scrambled to start to ship as quickly as possible, but it was too late. A sensation overcame Aleph, and they felt as though they were suspended in midair, falling. Their thoughts were blurry for a moment, but quickly another sensation overcame them. It was like they kneeled beside a great beast, one who had been kind and benevolent, and now had a hunter's spear in its throat. Aleph looked into its eyes and felt as though it wanted desperately wanted to tell them something, but had no words to do so. The life left it, and Aleph looked to the Hunter. It was a dark shape, formless but familiar. Before Aleph could think, the Hunter spoke into their mind.
'You will not die.'
And Aleph didn't.