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Mr. Universe

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Mr. Universe, they called him.

He was everywhere- on the crowded streets of the inner Alliance planets and skirting along the grasslands of the outer rim. He knew everything. The universe was his playground. They said that he was even in the air you breathed, this god amongst men.

But somewhere out there, in all the reaches of time and space, there's another name for him- lost in the nanodust- scattered amongst the shattered moon of the Earth that Was.  And no-

"That guy killed me, Mal. He killed me with a sword."

Mr. Universe' robot is an odd thing- not the pretty blonde that most would expect from a self imposed shut in, but a brunette. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Faint accent. Gender - male. Most would think that the machinary were alive, top notch circuitry- skin that looked and felt real. One hand strokes through Mr. Universe's curls as the thing talks- as it recites the last message of a living god.

The hand is trembling. The robot's eyes appear to be leaking. Faulty wiring, the Alliance would say.

The robot shakes, it's voice cracking ("-hard to reach,") and for all that he knows it isn't real, he aches to console it.

There's another rumor- of the high tech android Mr. Universe kept near him like a pet, and how the machine is based off of someone real. Someone from Mr. Universe's past. Someone who he betrayed.

A regret.

The robot is still leaking, and pressed into his lap, Mark Zuckerburg is growing cold.

The message loops.

"That guy killed me, Mal. He killed me with a sword."

The ghost of Eduardo Saverin keeps crying. You can't stop the signal.