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I look out upon the dark advance of the unending and unyielding Chaos, and as much as those from your era would be struck with terror at it, to me it brings a strange and transcendent peace. All that has ever existed outside of us is contained in it, and soon, we will all go to join it.

This feeling is hardly isolated to my own being. In your era, hysteria and panic would result, but in mine we have never seen so much joy. We of the last generation have accepted that all that ever was is ending with us; we are the penultimate in the logical progression of events from the start of history until the end. Everything has led to us, and soon we will be led to the Chaos. We go about it without thinking, not resigned to our fate, but accepting and embracing of it.

There is, however, a strange undercurrent of sadness that cuts through this peace. Not at what will be lost, but at what has already been. Most of us have already made the pilgrimage to the Edge, and those that haven’t will do so soon, I suspect. The allure of the lost times is too great to resist.

Like the others, I’ve gone to the Edge and sat, watching the Chaos. Strange visions have struck me there, visions of a past that somehow doesn’t exist anymore outside of the memories of a trillion souls long ago committed to the Chaos as its advance continued through the eons. I’ve seen you, yes, you, and everyone you ever knew. I’ve seen where you lived, where you laughed, where you cried, all of it.

It’s beautiful. We know only of the Chaos, the unyielding dark that somehow isn’t dark, but you, in your era, knew such beautiful things. Now, an unfathomable amount of time in the future, the memories you created so long ago are being seen again.

We’ve known about your world for longer than you’d imagine. Yes, it was our Harbingers, those that flew close to the Chaos, who first reported seeing the visions of your world. We dismissed these reports at first as being nothing more than hallucinations brought on by the long flights necessary to reach the edge of the Chaos, but soon, those among us who spoke to these Harbingers began to see the commonalities in their visions. Our academics studied them, and a coherent narrative began to form.

It was then that we first met you, in all your beauty. We began to take trips to the edge of the Chaos to study the visions and receive more of them. Your architecture, literature, art, all of it, became a cornerstone of our own culture. A spark of hope in a hopeless time when the Chaos was first found to be unassailable and unstoppable. It became a source of solace to uncountable billions of us as we realized that the Chaos, though it was ultimately our doom, was also the greatest source of beauty that has or will ever exist.

We don’t have much time left. Already the Edge is being worn away in some places, bit by bit. We likely don’t have much more than another decade, if that. I intend to learn as much about you as I can before I too go to the Chaos, and join you there.

I look forward to meeting you. We all do. You’ve brought so much to our time, and our last regret is that we couldn’t bring anything to yours. This letter may or may not reach you, but I hope it does. You have to know how much we thank you and how much we love you for what you’ve given us.

Blessings of the Chronophysicists upon you,

Seraph the Overscribe, Last Archivist of the Last Library