If you've ever been up really late, far past your bed time it is possible you have noticed it before. Deep into the night when everyone else is asleep and all is silent, when the air is still and the glare from the street lights doesn't seem so bright, you may have heard it. It isn't something you'd notice unless you were listening. In fact you may not be able to hear it at all unless it knows you are listening. Little more than a soft murmur, a distant rumble, it can be heard behind the omniscient black silence of a moonless night. And if you are quiet, patient, and lucky enough on special occasions it may open its age old mouth and cry out to the infinite. And to see it would be a rare treat indeed though few have had that privilege. I've talked to astronomers and astrophysicists across the world and found that hardly a hand full are even aware that it exists, and even fewer have actually witnessed it with their own eyes. Not unlike a shooting star it zips through the sky without warning and as quickly as it appears, it fades away. A small streak of brilliant color to dazzle your senses there and gone in the blink of an eye.
I speak of course of the fabled and foretold, the revered and rare, the elusive and illustrious Millennia Train. If you haven't heard of it before that's ok, you just haven't truly listened on the most silent of early mornings, or squinted hard enough on the clearest of nights. Well, you know of it now and I doubt you will forget.
An old man appears outside the elliptical orbit of Pluto. He stands patiently and deliberately. Looking around he finds the icy planet behind him and takes a moment to admire the view. It is the first time he has seen the planet in earnest, outside of photographs. Instinctively he checks his watch but time has little meaning anymore. The hands dace around each other while the encircling numbers change places with one another as though they were do-se-doing to a country tune only they can hear. Though he doesn't know why, the sight does not surprise him.
He turns his back to his home solar system and peers out across the sea of infinite stars. His silver hair stands on end as the solar winds from the life giving ball of fire gust from behind. Though the feeling delivers itself from out of nowhere, and he has no idea why it is there, he knows it to be true. He is home.
The Millennia Train lives outside boundaries we don't even know exist. It is how it survives. With a stroke of its omnipotent engine it speeds it's passengers across time and space, life and death, possibility and opportunity with the greatest of ease. There is no limit to what it can show you, no turn it cannot negotiate, no tunnel it cannot navigate, and no path it does not know.
The passengers of the Millennia Train are wide-eyed and weary, living and deceased, strange and strikingly familiar. They are on an infinite voyage of which the destination is to fill its mother universe with chaos and harmony. A destination it has already been reached.