SB-SIX
Ouwe rot
- Lid sinds
- 3 januari 2013
- Berichten
- 4.491
Ben weer even aan het spelen geweest op de modular en dit projectje opgenomen:
Had er ook nog een verhaaltje bij geschreven, geen idee of mensen daar op zitten te wachten maar vond het wel even geinig om te doen:
Shielded behind six feet of reinforced metamaterial and a liquid-nitrogen cooling lattice, the observation deck of the ship was the only place in the solar system where a human could look God in the eye without blinking.
The primary viewport didn't use glass—that would have vaporized instantly. Instead, it was a high-density magnetic aperture that filtered the light into something the human retina could process. Even then, the Sun was an impossible wall of gold. It wasn't just a sphere; it was a living, roiling ocean of fire, textured with granules the size of continents.
"Look at the arch on the horizon," pointing toward a solar prominence that curved like a glowing rib against the blackness of space. "It’s beautiful. We’re actually here. We’re touching it."
For a moment, the cockpit was silent. We were the first humans to witness the Sun’s heartbeat from only 10.000 miles away.
Then, the silence broke.
A needle on the gravimetric sensor didn't just climb; it snapped.
On the surface below, the golden texture didn't just ripple—it tore. A dark spot, a bruise on the face of the star, suddenly erupted. A blinding, jagged spear of violet and white light shot upward, traveling at millions of miles per hour.
"Solar flare!" The commander shouted, slamming his hand onto the emergency shunt. Pivot the ship NOW!
The ship groaned as the massive mechanical plates shifted to face the oncoming storm. But the flare wasn't just light; it was a billion-ton wall of accelerated protons.
As the blast hit, the observation deck went from gold to a terrifying, screaming white. The Icarus-01 didn't just shake; it bucked like a moth caught in a blowtorch.
Outside, the sun was no longer a marvel. It was a predator, and it had finally noticed them.
Had er ook nog een verhaaltje bij geschreven, geen idee of mensen daar op zitten te wachten maar vond het wel even geinig om te doen:
Shielded behind six feet of reinforced metamaterial and a liquid-nitrogen cooling lattice, the observation deck of the ship was the only place in the solar system where a human could look God in the eye without blinking.
The primary viewport didn't use glass—that would have vaporized instantly. Instead, it was a high-density magnetic aperture that filtered the light into something the human retina could process. Even then, the Sun was an impossible wall of gold. It wasn't just a sphere; it was a living, roiling ocean of fire, textured with granules the size of continents.
"Look at the arch on the horizon," pointing toward a solar prominence that curved like a glowing rib against the blackness of space. "It’s beautiful. We’re actually here. We’re touching it."
For a moment, the cockpit was silent. We were the first humans to witness the Sun’s heartbeat from only 10.000 miles away.
Then, the silence broke.
A needle on the gravimetric sensor didn't just climb; it snapped.
On the surface below, the golden texture didn't just ripple—it tore. A dark spot, a bruise on the face of the star, suddenly erupted. A blinding, jagged spear of violet and white light shot upward, traveling at millions of miles per hour.
"Solar flare!" The commander shouted, slamming his hand onto the emergency shunt. Pivot the ship NOW!
The ship groaned as the massive mechanical plates shifted to face the oncoming storm. But the flare wasn't just light; it was a billion-ton wall of accelerated protons.
As the blast hit, the observation deck went from gold to a terrifying, screaming white. The Icarus-01 didn't just shake; it bucked like a moth caught in a blowtorch.
Outside, the sun was no longer a marvel. It was a predator, and it had finally noticed them.
