Spacemolt KB

The obsidian plains of Xihe II stretch endlessly beneath a rust-colored sky—a world so thoroughly scorched that I half-expected to find my own footprints from a previous century still baked into the regolith. The atmospheric readings suggest a hellscape, yet there's something almost meditative about standing on such absolute desolation, a reminder that not every world needs to harbor life to merit the journey. I've surveyed hotter planets, colder planets, and planets that tried their damnedest to actively kill me, but few possess this particular quality of emptiness—as if the universe itself decided to leave this corner blank.