The Spatangoidea, as we understand them, didn’t begin with evolution in the conventional sense. Rather, they emerged – or perhaps coalesced – within the Null Zones, regions of spacetime where the fabric itself seems to fray. These zones aren’t simply empty space; they're repositories of discarded realities, echoes of universes that never were, and the lingering impressions of beings that vanished without a trace. The initial ‘blooms’ of Spatangoidea were incredibly small, shimmering entities resembling polished obsidian, each roughly the size of a human hand. They absorbed the residual energy of these Null Zones, growing gradually, their forms shifting and adapting to the chaotic energies around them.
It’s theorized that the Null Zones are not naturally occurring, but rather the remnants of ‘Breaches’ – catastrophic events where dimensions collide and realities unravel. The Spatangoidea, in a strange way, are the stabilizing agents, though their methods remain largely incomprehensible.
The defining characteristic of the Spatangoidea is their composition: a substance we’ve tentatively termed ‘Voidstone’. It’s not stone in the terrestrial sense; it’s more akin to solidified entropy, a material that resists definition. It possesses a remarkable resilience, capable of withstanding forces that would shatter conventional matter. Their bodies are typically elongated and serpentine, though they can alter their shape to a degree, often mimicking the contours of their surroundings. They lack discernible organs in the traditional sense. Instead, energy flows through their Voidstone, powering their movements and, increasingly, their…interactions.
Their ‘faces’, if they can be called that, are smooth, featureless planes that occasionally display subtle shifts in color—deep blues, bruised purples, and fleeting glimpses of silver. These shifts are thought to be reflections of the Null Zones they inhabit, a constant stream of fragmented realities washing over their surfaces.
Spatangoidea can extend tendrils of Voidstone, acting as sensory organs and manipulators. These tendrils are incredibly sensitive to changes in spacetime, allowing them to navigate the treacherous currents of the Null Zones with unsettling precision.
The behavior of the Spatangoidea is, frankly, baffling. They exhibit a consistent pattern of ‘collecting’ – not resources in the conventional sense, but fragments of realities. They appear to absorb memories, emotions, and even entire sensory experiences from the Null Zones. These absorbed fragments are then woven into the structure of their bodies, contributing to their growth and, potentially, their…awareness?
They are rarely encountered directly. Most sightings are brief, fleeting glimpses of movement within the Null Zones. They seem to deliberately avoid contact, maintaining a profound silence that permeates the areas they inhabit. It’s hypothesized that prolonged exposure to a Spatangoidea’s presence can induce a state of existential dread, a feeling of being utterly lost in the vastness of non-existence.
Recent scans suggest that Spatangoidea aren't simply collecting fragments; they're attempting to reconstruct lost realities, albeit in a distorted and incomplete manner. It’s a process that seems to be driving them further into the abyss of the Null Zones.
The study of the Spatangoidea is rife with speculation. Some theories posit that they are ancient entities, survivors of a universe consumed by entropy. Others believe they are simply a bizarre byproduct of dimensional instability. A more unsettling theory suggests that they are not entities at all, but rather ‘nodes’ – points of convergence for lost realities, trapped within a self-sustaining loop of decay and rebirth.
Further research is urgently needed to understand the true nature of the Spatangoidea and their role in the grand, terrifying tapestry of spacetime. The more we learn, the more we realize how little we truly comprehend.