The 256x wasn’t a distance; it was the compression ratio. Everything inside was packed so tight that the light itself felt heavy.
She gripped the controls, the world turning into a blur of prismatic light. As she breached the edge of the nebula, the indigo clouds collapsed behind her into a single, silent point of light. In her cargo bay sat a vial of dust that felt warm to the touch. She hadn't just found data. She had salvaged a soul. ⚡ stardust (nebula) 256x
She saw them then: the Chrono-Wraiths. They weren’t ghosts, but echoes of the data stored in the dust. Projected images of a forgotten civilization played out against the backdrop of the stars—children running through gardens of light, scientists arguing over glowing blueprints. They were beautiful, but they were dangerous; their static could fry a ship's nervous system in seconds. The 256x wasn’t a distance; it was the compression ratio