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The sea stretched out far into the seemingly endless expanse, a desolate expanse of blackness and somber, calm yet pristine waves. Even as the murky protoplasmic waters seemed to move, strange pebbles stirred the pristine surface, it remained devoid of even the faintest of whispers. There was no breath of life, no gust of wind, only a cold stillness that pervaded every inch of this desolate existence on which the dark traveler stood unmoving in his shapeless dark robes and dim red stola. Above him the empty sky imitated the utter desolation where infinite possibilities reformulated themselves shone down its black light as the strange stars arose over the horizon. Before him, gargantuan edifices arose keeping the queer peace of the waters and the air; no drops cascading on its spires twisting into themselves, leaning east and west, burrowing south and north in maddening courses. Some rose beyond the threshold of the primordial ocean bereft of life, thriving with an existence

Captain Fractus Cornsnort, a grizzled yet oddly sprightly figure, squinted against the blazing cyan skies as the SS Nurdfish creaked, groaned & practically jitterbugged its way through the splintered airwaves of the Galaxian Sea. His wide-brimmed hat, perched at an improbable angle on his head like a drunken vulture, flapped as the gusts threw a tantrum against the ship's sails. Cornsnort's mustache, a wiry testament to its owner's eccentricities, bristled with determination as he grasped the massive wheel. The SS Nurdfish was not just any interstellar vessel; it was an abominable, cobbled-together masterpiece of junkyard elegance, a battered space schooner that had seen more patches than sails. In a universe where logic danced on the precipice of madness, Cornsnort & his ship fit right in. Beside him, on the captain's console, lounged Ruckus—a chunky, tabby-patterned fuzzball with an attitude louder than a quasar explosion. His one eye gleamed with perpetual mischief, while his