STORYSTAR
Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Science Fiction
- Subject: Mystery
- Published: 01/22/2026
The Fury of Stars, Hope of Earth…
Born 1987, M, from Moscow, Russian Federation.jpeg)
A man emerged from a tent adorned with stars and crescent moons. Lost in rather unpleasant thoughts, he was heading home.
This man's problem was that he — believed.
It was the beginning of the 21st century.
On April 15, 2235, the spacecraft "Heracles-1" set out to explore remote corners of the Galaxy. The crew of the "Heracles" consisted of the best and most experienced professionals in their field.
Due to an accident caused by an undefined anomaly, communication with the astronauts was lost. Attempts to restore contact were fruitless.
It was decided to declare the ship's crew missing.
Exactly one year later, at the end of a routine operation involving the space gatherer "Hermes-5" on one of the large asteroids, the ship's pilot Hiroyuki Tachidzaki registered a faint incoming signal. Tachidzaki attempted to respond but met with failure.
Nevertheless, the transmission, conducted via Morse code, did not cease. The astronaut turned on the recording.
Upon starting the decoding process, Tachidzaki found with surprise that what he heard framed by dashes and dots was not a warning or a plea for rescue, but binary code. What exact picture the zeros and ones formed, the Earth citizen did not know. However, judging by what Hiroyuki managed to decipher, the unknown contact was transmitting a sequence of notes and chords.
Tachidzaki tried to locate the source of the information, but without success. The reception continued for a while longer before it unexpectedly ceased. Naturally, the astronaut immediately reported the incident to his superiors.
Attempts from Earth to establish the origin of the signal also proved futile.
However, the "letter" from space was fully read. After careful analysis, which involved not only specialists in interstellar flights but also renowned musicians, it became clear that Tachidzaki had registered some previously unknown, highly unusual musical composition. Hiroyuki was fortunate enough to have completely recorded this unrecognized score in digital form before it abruptly vanished from the radio ether. The opus, reconstructed from scattered pieces, was titled "Symphony of Singularity."
To perform the "Symphony," over two hundred professionals gathered in the grand planetary auditorium "Titan": violinists, trombonists, keyboardists, drummers, and more. The orchestra was conducted by the maestro Rylinsky himself.
Famous figures and ordinary workers alike came in droves to listen to the piece from an anonymous author hailing from an unspecified point in the Universe. The concert was recorded and broadcast live on television, radio, and the internet.
Here is how it all went down.
The lights in the hall were extinguished, spotlights turned on, and the performance began. Whatever the guests expected, what they heard surpassed, as is often said, all their expectations. In every sense. The fact is that the melody was so grand, strange, and absurd that it seemed entirely unfit for human ears.
A primordial force, mingled with wondrous and, at times, even horrifying musical solutions, enveloped the audience at the “Titan.” An astonishing combination of notes, the absence of familiar melodies as such, erratic rhythms, unpredictable pauses… The author of the "Symphony of Singularity," whoever he might be, seemed to deny and discard all experience in creating musical works, instead offering something equally ridiculous, grandiose, and nightmarish.
When the phantasmagoric creation suddenly ended, seeming to cut off mid-phrase, the spotlights in the hall went out and the lights turned back on. But no one was capable of applauding.
Across the planet, listeners remained in stunned silence.
In the 21st century, the same unknown man spent countless hours and considerable money before luck smiled upon him. Exhausting searches finally concluded successfully.
Having paid for a valuable acquisition and carefully placed it in his bag, the man made his way to the bus stop.
At the moment the last note of the "Symphony" faded (possibly by some inexplicable turn of events), a spatiotemporal rift opened in the sky above Supremoscow, where the significant concert took place.
Certainly, scientists did not immediately understand that the rift was indeed spatiotemporal. Once the last doubts vanished, a spaceship "Heracles-2" was equipped and dispatched into the void hanging above the capital’s tear.
Once again, only the best were selected for the crew. The specialists at the Mission Control Center monitored every step, every move of the astronauts — but this did not help. As soon as the ship vanished beyond the suddenly appeared rift, it immediately collapsed. It seemed the starship met the fate of its namesake.
Meanwhile…
After several seconds of light and sound chaos, to which the experienced astronauts were unprepared, the "Heracles-2" burst forth from the second continuum breach into an unexplored part of the Universe and crashed amidst some celestial body. The hole in the sky instantly sealed up, cutting off any possible way back.
Fortunately, none of the crew were seriously injured. However, they could not determine their location, and the very stars displayed on the monitors looked unfamiliar and surely hostile. In any case, no human had ever seen such constellations. Communication with Mission Control was unsuccessful… Then, just a couple of minutes later, the spacecraft’s systems ceased to function.
It was then decided that the whole crew would venture outside to explore the newly discovered territory.
The hatch had to be opened using the emergency system. Once they accomplished that, six astronauts donned in spacesuits stepped onto the rocky, dead ground and surveyed their surroundings. All around, as far as the eye could see, stretched a monotonous gray landscape devoid of any signs of life or intelligent beings.
Meanwhile, it was established that the atmosphere of the alien celestial body inexplicably matched Earth's almost perfectly. However, they decided not to remove their spacesuits, as no information about potential dangers lurking nearby had been available to the "Heracles-2" crew so far.
Suddenly, one of the astronauts, using the navigator, discovered a substantial obviously artificial structure. After discussing, they decided to head there.
They walked quite easily but remained in a profoundly grim mood, which was entirely understandable: prospects for salvation and returning home remained exceedingly vague. Finally, the first target of their journey appeared ahead, and as soon as it happened, the six seasoned men and women stopped in unison. They stood awestruck, unable to believe their own eyes. Before them, hundreds of meters away, was a spacecraft that had seemingly suffered a crash landing.
They moved closer, and when they got sufficiently near, their astonishment knew no bounds. Towering before the astronauts was the long-lost "Heracles-1."
Nearby the ship — no signs of people. Inside — when they climbed through the open hatch — also no one. Systems of the ship showed no signs of life. And only on the inactive control panel lay a kind of echo of the fog of the past — a forgotten or abandoned sheet of paper. On the sheet, in Latin letters — a short jotted note, meaningless and unknown, moreover unreadable, possibly hastily scrawled. The meaning of the writing could not be determined. It gave the impression that letters and symbols coexisted on the white sheet of paper in a completely arbitrary order.
Further events soon precluded long pondering over the riddle. A reactivated scanner detected a manmade construction in relative proximity. Therefore, taking the unusual note with them, they set off again.
This time, led by red markers on their screens, they traveled a bit longer. The structure in question, according to the navigator, lay behind a high and wide rock. After rounding it, the six space travelers stumbled upon a sight that turned their world upside down.
In the middle of the lifeless rocky landscape towered an enormous solitary building. Of a mossy or earthy hue, it shimmered in the light of distant undeciphered constellations with indescribable colors. But this was not the most astounding. The most impressive and terrifying thing was that the architects who built the structure — whoever they were — seemed to have thumbed their noses at all rules of Euclidean geometry. Parts of the colossal building were positioned to each other at such angles that neither imagining nor realizing it was within the power of any single person. The alien temple, or perhaps a repository, a home, or anything else, solitary and mute, called and drew them in with a horror of mysteries, an indefinable feeling that stirred in the hearts of those enchanted by its sight.
And, captivated by the gruesome yet inevitable spectacle, they approached almost closely. When this occurred, they could make out in detail the cyclopean, towering semicircular gates reaching into an unreachable height. Against the backdrop of the building, people appeared as pitiful, defenseless insects.
To the left and right of the gates loomed several-meter-tall columns, the bases of which were adorned with large signs that bore no resemblance to earthly writing.
Obeying an unexpected impulse, the astronaut holding the sheet with the mysterious pseudo-Latin inscription pulled it out and read aloud what was documented in slovenly handwriting. The phrase ended with an alien, but for some reason vaguely familiar consonance: "fhtagn."
At that moment, huge doors began to move, shaking the air. Stench and primal darkness surged outward to where a ridiculous semblance of sunlight ruled, ready to sweep it away, consume it, obliterate it forever.
And then He emerged. Stretching countless infinite appendages towards them…
The inhabitant of the 21st century, whose name history could not preserve, stepped off the bus and headed toward the city library.
There, after a brief conversation, he handed an ancient book to the head librarian.
...When it was all over, Nyarlathotep looked around in all his godforsaken mass. At some distance, he noticed a second crashed vehicle. He made his way to it, passing by the first machine: with it, and similarly with its crew, the ancient deity had already dealt with.
Approaching the ship, Nyarlathotep extended an appendage inside. He groped and groped in a futile attempt to find out even a little about those worthless beings who dared to come to Him and awaken Him for the second time in what He considered a very short period of time. The dark gods, including Himself, had existed in the Universe for so long and would continue to do so for such an extended duration that an earthly year seemed to Them but a fleeting moment — ephemeral, almost stillborn.
Unable to discover anything about the dwelling place of the recklessly arrogant and endlessly foolish visitors, the Crawling Horror filled with righteous, from His perspective, rage. He destroyed the flying machine, but that brought no relief.
An indefinite amount of time passed.
Nyarlathotep was about to return, back to the house-temple at the edge of Eternity, to his rightful abode and cradle, when directly above Him, a hole in the continuum opened up, evidently intended to spew forth another disturbance from its gaping maw.
And then He screamed. Not like a living creature screams out of anger or fear, but like a maddened being woven entirely from the darkness, death, and hopeless despair of others.
And the earth trembled beneath Him, and the air thickened around Him, and the sky above His disproportionate, titanic form darkened to shades of black. Distance held no true meaning for Nyarlathotep: He was capable now and hungered to swiftly and elusively travel through cosmic darkness, simply to seek out those who intruded, disturbed, and thwarted His sleep, encroaching upon His primordial, unassailable right!
Exceedingly enraged, the lord of fear went mad with fury, and His wrath could crush stars…
In the Miskatonic Library lay an ancient, venerable tome known as the "Necronomicon." This book contained ancient, forgotten knowledge and powerful spells, including those for banishing otherworldly entities. The folio stood on the shelf for many years.
Then, when the library was demolished and rebuilt anew, made more modern and technological, the "Necronomicon" returned to its rightful place in the section on "Occultism." There it continued to gather dust, unwanted and uninteresting.
But time passed, and now, perhaps for the first time since the beginning of the 21st century, when the book was left by a man whose name history has forgotten, the "Necronomicon" might finally prove to be very, very useful.
Nonetheless, this moment of existence has yet to be written…
This man's problem was that he — believed.
It was the beginning of the 21st century.
On April 15, 2235, the spacecraft "Heracles-1" set out to explore remote corners of the Galaxy. The crew of the "Heracles" consisted of the best and most experienced professionals in their field.
Due to an accident caused by an undefined anomaly, communication with the astronauts was lost. Attempts to restore contact were fruitless.
It was decided to declare the ship's crew missing.
Exactly one year later, at the end of a routine operation involving the space gatherer "Hermes-5" on one of the large asteroids, the ship's pilot Hiroyuki Tachidzaki registered a faint incoming signal. Tachidzaki attempted to respond but met with failure.
Nevertheless, the transmission, conducted via Morse code, did not cease. The astronaut turned on the recording.
Upon starting the decoding process, Tachidzaki found with surprise that what he heard framed by dashes and dots was not a warning or a plea for rescue, but binary code. What exact picture the zeros and ones formed, the Earth citizen did not know. However, judging by what Hiroyuki managed to decipher, the unknown contact was transmitting a sequence of notes and chords.
Tachidzaki tried to locate the source of the information, but without success. The reception continued for a while longer before it unexpectedly ceased. Naturally, the astronaut immediately reported the incident to his superiors.
Attempts from Earth to establish the origin of the signal also proved futile.
However, the "letter" from space was fully read. After careful analysis, which involved not only specialists in interstellar flights but also renowned musicians, it became clear that Tachidzaki had registered some previously unknown, highly unusual musical composition. Hiroyuki was fortunate enough to have completely recorded this unrecognized score in digital form before it abruptly vanished from the radio ether. The opus, reconstructed from scattered pieces, was titled "Symphony of Singularity."
To perform the "Symphony," over two hundred professionals gathered in the grand planetary auditorium "Titan": violinists, trombonists, keyboardists, drummers, and more. The orchestra was conducted by the maestro Rylinsky himself.
Famous figures and ordinary workers alike came in droves to listen to the piece from an anonymous author hailing from an unspecified point in the Universe. The concert was recorded and broadcast live on television, radio, and the internet.
Here is how it all went down.
The lights in the hall were extinguished, spotlights turned on, and the performance began. Whatever the guests expected, what they heard surpassed, as is often said, all their expectations. In every sense. The fact is that the melody was so grand, strange, and absurd that it seemed entirely unfit for human ears.
A primordial force, mingled with wondrous and, at times, even horrifying musical solutions, enveloped the audience at the “Titan.” An astonishing combination of notes, the absence of familiar melodies as such, erratic rhythms, unpredictable pauses… The author of the "Symphony of Singularity," whoever he might be, seemed to deny and discard all experience in creating musical works, instead offering something equally ridiculous, grandiose, and nightmarish.
When the phantasmagoric creation suddenly ended, seeming to cut off mid-phrase, the spotlights in the hall went out and the lights turned back on. But no one was capable of applauding.
Across the planet, listeners remained in stunned silence.
In the 21st century, the same unknown man spent countless hours and considerable money before luck smiled upon him. Exhausting searches finally concluded successfully.
Having paid for a valuable acquisition and carefully placed it in his bag, the man made his way to the bus stop.
At the moment the last note of the "Symphony" faded (possibly by some inexplicable turn of events), a spatiotemporal rift opened in the sky above Supremoscow, where the significant concert took place.
Certainly, scientists did not immediately understand that the rift was indeed spatiotemporal. Once the last doubts vanished, a spaceship "Heracles-2" was equipped and dispatched into the void hanging above the capital’s tear.
Once again, only the best were selected for the crew. The specialists at the Mission Control Center monitored every step, every move of the astronauts — but this did not help. As soon as the ship vanished beyond the suddenly appeared rift, it immediately collapsed. It seemed the starship met the fate of its namesake.
Meanwhile…
After several seconds of light and sound chaos, to which the experienced astronauts were unprepared, the "Heracles-2" burst forth from the second continuum breach into an unexplored part of the Universe and crashed amidst some celestial body. The hole in the sky instantly sealed up, cutting off any possible way back.
Fortunately, none of the crew were seriously injured. However, they could not determine their location, and the very stars displayed on the monitors looked unfamiliar and surely hostile. In any case, no human had ever seen such constellations. Communication with Mission Control was unsuccessful… Then, just a couple of minutes later, the spacecraft’s systems ceased to function.
It was then decided that the whole crew would venture outside to explore the newly discovered territory.
The hatch had to be opened using the emergency system. Once they accomplished that, six astronauts donned in spacesuits stepped onto the rocky, dead ground and surveyed their surroundings. All around, as far as the eye could see, stretched a monotonous gray landscape devoid of any signs of life or intelligent beings.
Meanwhile, it was established that the atmosphere of the alien celestial body inexplicably matched Earth's almost perfectly. However, they decided not to remove their spacesuits, as no information about potential dangers lurking nearby had been available to the "Heracles-2" crew so far.
Suddenly, one of the astronauts, using the navigator, discovered a substantial obviously artificial structure. After discussing, they decided to head there.
They walked quite easily but remained in a profoundly grim mood, which was entirely understandable: prospects for salvation and returning home remained exceedingly vague. Finally, the first target of their journey appeared ahead, and as soon as it happened, the six seasoned men and women stopped in unison. They stood awestruck, unable to believe their own eyes. Before them, hundreds of meters away, was a spacecraft that had seemingly suffered a crash landing.
They moved closer, and when they got sufficiently near, their astonishment knew no bounds. Towering before the astronauts was the long-lost "Heracles-1."
Nearby the ship — no signs of people. Inside — when they climbed through the open hatch — also no one. Systems of the ship showed no signs of life. And only on the inactive control panel lay a kind of echo of the fog of the past — a forgotten or abandoned sheet of paper. On the sheet, in Latin letters — a short jotted note, meaningless and unknown, moreover unreadable, possibly hastily scrawled. The meaning of the writing could not be determined. It gave the impression that letters and symbols coexisted on the white sheet of paper in a completely arbitrary order.
Further events soon precluded long pondering over the riddle. A reactivated scanner detected a manmade construction in relative proximity. Therefore, taking the unusual note with them, they set off again.
This time, led by red markers on their screens, they traveled a bit longer. The structure in question, according to the navigator, lay behind a high and wide rock. After rounding it, the six space travelers stumbled upon a sight that turned their world upside down.
In the middle of the lifeless rocky landscape towered an enormous solitary building. Of a mossy or earthy hue, it shimmered in the light of distant undeciphered constellations with indescribable colors. But this was not the most astounding. The most impressive and terrifying thing was that the architects who built the structure — whoever they were — seemed to have thumbed their noses at all rules of Euclidean geometry. Parts of the colossal building were positioned to each other at such angles that neither imagining nor realizing it was within the power of any single person. The alien temple, or perhaps a repository, a home, or anything else, solitary and mute, called and drew them in with a horror of mysteries, an indefinable feeling that stirred in the hearts of those enchanted by its sight.
And, captivated by the gruesome yet inevitable spectacle, they approached almost closely. When this occurred, they could make out in detail the cyclopean, towering semicircular gates reaching into an unreachable height. Against the backdrop of the building, people appeared as pitiful, defenseless insects.
To the left and right of the gates loomed several-meter-tall columns, the bases of which were adorned with large signs that bore no resemblance to earthly writing.
Obeying an unexpected impulse, the astronaut holding the sheet with the mysterious pseudo-Latin inscription pulled it out and read aloud what was documented in slovenly handwriting. The phrase ended with an alien, but for some reason vaguely familiar consonance: "fhtagn."
At that moment, huge doors began to move, shaking the air. Stench and primal darkness surged outward to where a ridiculous semblance of sunlight ruled, ready to sweep it away, consume it, obliterate it forever.
And then He emerged. Stretching countless infinite appendages towards them…
The inhabitant of the 21st century, whose name history could not preserve, stepped off the bus and headed toward the city library.
There, after a brief conversation, he handed an ancient book to the head librarian.
...When it was all over, Nyarlathotep looked around in all his godforsaken mass. At some distance, he noticed a second crashed vehicle. He made his way to it, passing by the first machine: with it, and similarly with its crew, the ancient deity had already dealt with.
Approaching the ship, Nyarlathotep extended an appendage inside. He groped and groped in a futile attempt to find out even a little about those worthless beings who dared to come to Him and awaken Him for the second time in what He considered a very short period of time. The dark gods, including Himself, had existed in the Universe for so long and would continue to do so for such an extended duration that an earthly year seemed to Them but a fleeting moment — ephemeral, almost stillborn.
Unable to discover anything about the dwelling place of the recklessly arrogant and endlessly foolish visitors, the Crawling Horror filled with righteous, from His perspective, rage. He destroyed the flying machine, but that brought no relief.
An indefinite amount of time passed.
Nyarlathotep was about to return, back to the house-temple at the edge of Eternity, to his rightful abode and cradle, when directly above Him, a hole in the continuum opened up, evidently intended to spew forth another disturbance from its gaping maw.
And then He screamed. Not like a living creature screams out of anger or fear, but like a maddened being woven entirely from the darkness, death, and hopeless despair of others.
And the earth trembled beneath Him, and the air thickened around Him, and the sky above His disproportionate, titanic form darkened to shades of black. Distance held no true meaning for Nyarlathotep: He was capable now and hungered to swiftly and elusively travel through cosmic darkness, simply to seek out those who intruded, disturbed, and thwarted His sleep, encroaching upon His primordial, unassailable right!
Exceedingly enraged, the lord of fear went mad with fury, and His wrath could crush stars…
In the Miskatonic Library lay an ancient, venerable tome known as the "Necronomicon." This book contained ancient, forgotten knowledge and powerful spells, including those for banishing otherworldly entities. The folio stood on the shelf for many years.
Then, when the library was demolished and rebuilt anew, made more modern and technological, the "Necronomicon" returned to its rightful place in the section on "Occultism." There it continued to gather dust, unwanted and uninteresting.
But time passed, and now, perhaps for the first time since the beginning of the 21st century, when the book was left by a man whose name history has forgotten, the "Necronomicon" might finally prove to be very, very useful.
Nonetheless, this moment of existence has yet to be written…
.png)
.jpeg)
COMMENTS (1)