I find your galaxy wanting. I choose to remake it and give birth to a new Infinite Empire

Can you feel it, the presence of everyone aboard this station? Their beating hearts, the draw of their breath, their senses working as one. A current drifting from one to another set in motion by the eye of the storm. Their passions turned into energy into a chorus, it is the rising swell at the end of a song. The promise of an encore, the call of a new melody in the dark.

*Reciting a riddle*

This thing all things devours:

Birds, beast, trees, and flowers;

Gnaws iron, bites steel;

Grinds hard stones to meal;

Slays king, ruin town,

And beast high mountain down.