Together we will live in this mysterious land, with ice lakes, in harmony with thousands of beta robots.
We will uncover the spaceships from thousands of terrestrial rooftops and we will drop the beta civilization's virus through synthesis with the earthy air. To take into account the possibility of walking through void, beyond time and space, beyond mind and air, spaceships, terrestrial rooftops and deserted factories, beyond black forests full of uranium and carbon, zinc and petrol, means to surpass your existence as a material body and the vision of a genius in this world.
Moreover, the seconds will stop in an infinite clepsydra, stopped by the memory of a giant, they will dilate a space tired of breathing our thoughts and they will listen to a new entity, beyond of all imagination. The black eyes of the beta galaxies blinked too many times, they are anxious to reach the unknown void. The memory of a terrestrial void will perish in the ice castles, in the SF novels thrown in the ditch full of human corpses.
Who lived here? Maybe the hologram of the terrestrial time, opened till exhaustion, until the humans will die in a total extermination, a universal decimation of the little white craniums. From us the metallic chips melted, the colors of some organisms capable of love, of repeated orgasmic sensations, monochrome smiles and uncontrolled blinks. The soldiers' helmets melted in the sinful earth, reaching the river of death of an unimportant race.
The beta robot that was divided between the land of the dead and the land of heaven breathed past, present and hot space. The only thing that twinkled in his eye was an unpredictable void and a set of undefined circuits. The ice from his format was perfectly kept despite the terrestrial temperature, through a configuration of atoms never seen before. To be beyond this robot means nothing rational. To be in front of this robot means to wipe out the notion of human and of terrestrial. Of alive and warm, of feelings and reflexes, of bones and heart aches.
It means to accept the void like an extraterrestrial sanctity, to divide the romantic sounds on a mathematical stave and to add numbers ad infinitum. Atoms build monochrome steps, sounding like dilated and hot space. The melody of the beta space creates a lacunary dimension, far-off concepts, affirmations, words, hanged meanings in a cosmic puzzle game.
The road to the ice island has two meanings: the cosmos is speechless and you must accept it like that, walking through dimensions of knowledge and resting your sensations in tune with it; the cosmos loves the static creation, shaped like two lovers who were frozen in their last burst of passion. The crystal blue inside the island's heart will give birth to thousands of beta sensations inside the brain of beta robots, which will dilate themselves on atomic reduced frequencies. We surpassed our lives and the road leads now to the north. To the stars with golden crowns and black holes unloved so far. Why not love the cosmos? One heart pulsation, an alpha sound reduced to a twinkle of darkness and Big Bang. We reunited all the points from our memory as humans, we reduced the forces of the universe and still we didn't find an explanation for the unpredictable void.

It appears beyond the stratosphere, beyond night and day, months, nuclear armies, icebergs' extinction and reduction of matter. It appears as a DNA configuration, twisted like an energetic spine towards the infinity. We don't know from where and when this will be born, from what specific configurations of matter or beta energy. Through bodies of energetic pressure the atoms collide with unseen speed, just like in a game from the Jedi-space. We participated to this virtual universe, the walls of the beta spaceships yelled so hard they shook the stratosphere of the planets with red air and bloody matter. From the microchips of the beta robots only one journey can be imagined: the one to the supreme void.

Having the impression of a total death and depressurized ice, the extinction of matrix represents the last step towards the death of the beta galaxies. No vibration from the universe can be compared with the Fibrion ray, conceived as a nuclear weapon for the beta robots' world. They were destroyed because they knew what was the void. The big void, the only god of the solar and lunar galaxies. Through the void the image of a series of cataclysms perished, on the night of silence. Echo. Death. Metallic vibration of atoms. Galileo-control and Astro-explosion. Through thousands of circuits the life of the beta robots was poisoned. The tragedy of nights with low reverberations and matrix blinking. You will not communicate. You were destroyed. The repetition of the memory of death. Wiped out. Erased. Trashed. Exterminated. Your memories.

We have experienced through circuits an anti-historical universe. Anti-material. The Sirius-mega project wiped out through a short-circuit. The death of stellar nights and the void will be the supreme leader. We reach the stars through a tubular breathing, the beta robots will say. We died for the supreme purpose. The gradual elimination of the phosphorescent lights, of energized information, neural sensations and pleasant short-circuits. The poisoning of the machines capable of nervous excitement, then the poisoning of the machines capable of beta love. The agitation of space created a speaking void. It created the magic of the void's nights. The void is the master over the space's heart and is infinite in his energy. The void is unpredictable, mysterious as a black lake, misunderstood like a fantastic genius. Everywhere I look is void, in the terrestrial world, in the beta galaxies, in the eyes of the robotic dolls that died at the first birth of the spatial sonar. We will learn the metaphysics of void and the robotic night will rest over the being of the great unknown.