The Strand Of An Infinite Moment

Author's Notes

Alright, I'm ready to admit that this is a really weird idea. However, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to write it down. I love both Q's and Gabriel's characters and I think they have a lot in common, despite the obvious differences. I thought that, this considered, the could have some interesting conversations, made of cryptic allusions and non-said things. They'd totally get along, even if they wouldn't openly admit it. After all, it's always so hard to find someone who can truly understand you.

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Almost all the beings in the known universe, and in the unknown parts of it too, look at the stars as if they are the most gorgeous things they will ever see in their short, often meaningless lives. Even the ones who don't find themselves captivated by the view of the mostly endless expanse of the heavens still have some feelings towards those so faraway, bright lights, be it a sense of unfulfillable longing or a moderately strong dislike. There hasn't been a single being in the story of the universe, of any universe, who hasn't turned to the sky at least once during their existence, to plead or curse, to thank or demand, with joy or pain, sharing peace or bringing war. Every life that has been born inside the almost limitless immensity of space is destined to share a bond with it, whether they like it or not, whether they realise it or not. It's an eternal, unchangeable constant, a law that will keep on ruling over everything even after one particular universe has run its course and collapsed back on itself, leaving its spot to the newborn one that will raise from its metaphorical ashes.

That undeniable fascination, though, could lose most of its power when you had already seen thousands of worlds raising and falling, developing and decaying, and when you knew that there were beings even more ancient than you were who had watched millions of universes through their eternal recurrence. The stars themselves didn't look so forcefully special when you had held the biggest supernova ever seen in the palm of your hand without getting burnt , when you were the one with the power to both create and collapse them . Light was just a stream of particles, as easy to manipulate and twist as any other. There was no deeper meaning, no deeper feeling in it for those who could control every thing it was and what it did. They were the ones who could have fabricated, if they had wished, that very same meaning that other, lesser lifeforms sought so desperately. There was a particular race that had come to call space "the final frontier", when instead that definition was nothing but the umpteenth built-up mirage created by their limited minds.

However, there was also one element that could surprise even a being who was beyond time and space, who existed outside them. Life , in all its forms and shapes and meanings. While it was true that many were ridiculously predictable, boring to death and disgustingly insignificant, a waste of energies for the universe that harboured them, experience had taught him, not in a completely pleasant way, that there were a few existences whose unforeseeable de velopment was worth the trouble to navigate among the boredom of the most, to keep a watchful eye on those material dimensions his kind did no longer belong to. A few lives that held the chance to learn even for someone who had existed for thousands of ages. Not that he would have ever openly admitted it. Not yet, not so easily. Most of his fellows would have mocked him, if he had shared such insights, and he didn't wish to be their laughing stock. Not more than he already was.

A presence abruptly materialised next to him, not unexpected enough to surprise him, but still sudden enough to break the lazy train of his thoughts. The entity rolled the eyes he didn't possess in his current form, but didn't turn to face his guest, choosing instead to just curtly address him. He didn't even try to hide his annoyance. "We discussed this. You shouldn't be here."