The images relayed by the probe revealed a horrifying, skin-crawling truth deep beneath the planet's surface.
Almost none of the original rock remained. The planet's structure had nearly vanished, and after barely holding together for ten thousand years, it could hardly be called a "celestial body" anymore. It was now essentially a gigantic living creature. The only images transmitted back were of enormous, terrifying dark tentacles and vast cavities spanning the entire planet. The probe sped through the depths underground, yet found almost no rock or soil.
On the screen, tentacles resembling a thorny jungle whipped past the camera. In the dark-red field of view, almost everything consisted of Firstborn tissue. A faint glow was omnipresent in the depths underground, emitted by the Firstborn's nerve ganglia and pump-like organs. Within that dim light, thin clouds could also be seen everywhere. They were vast quantities of microorganisms released by the Firstborn's tentacles, essentially identical to the microbial colonies atop the planet's clouds. Occasionally, between the tentacles, there were piles of pitch-black material with a metallic sheen. They were the remnants of the crust and mantle, completely eroded and transformed—the only original parts of the planet that remained.
The probe moved through what seemed like an endless labyrinth of tunnels. No matter which direction it traveled, it encountered only profound passageways glowing dark red and vast underground cavities. The transmitted data showed that the surrounding temperature was gradually rising. The probe was nearing the Firstborn's core organ, yet there were still no extensive geological layers anywhere. Data Terminal activated the probe's audio sensor, and a strange sound began to echo around everyone.
The sound mingled deep winds with heavy reverberations like a heartbeat. Low and slow, it resembled the melody of this planet's life.
"Based on our estimates, eighty percent of the