Tertius Blanc-Space
There are places in New Eden where the stars dim and signals die in transit.
That’s where I fly.

I follow traces that shouldn’t exist and echoes that shouldn’t return.
Most who cross those paths don’t realize it until the silence closes around them.

Blanc-Space leaves no marks, no warnings, no aftermath—
only the absence of what was there before.

The rest is swallowed by the dark.