On a dark, starry night, in a vast, grassy plain tucked away inside an old observatory, The Astronomer was all alone.

He was an old Astronomer. Grey of hair, with thin, wrinkled skin. The entropy of time bit at his hands, causing a tremor through his digits. However, that did not stop him in his pursuits. He sat in his observatory every night, gazing up at eternity through an old rusty telescope, charting his findings in an ancient leather-bound notebook. The Astronomer would also listen through a radar dish perched atop the old observatory, all in an effort for his deepest wishes: to understand the universe and to unravel the truth of existence. However, he often gazed at The Moon, marveling at the pearly treasure in an inky sea.

Tonight was no different. The Astronomer sat there in his chair, listening to the music of space and searching for something new. Until he happened upon a noise. A strange noise, no more than a vomit of static buzzing like a television with no connection and deep warbles that vibrated in The Astronomer’s skull. It was a garbled mess of space stuff, an echo of creation.

The Astronomer lingered on that noise. An untrained or unambitious observer would have glossed it over as standard background radiation, but The Astronomer stayed and listened. Perhaps in his old age or due to his long work day, he thought he heard a spoken word: Truth.

He swallowed hard and backed away from his radar and telescope in a flash, then chuckled, writing his findings in the journal and deciding to head home.

It was a long drive and an even longer night. The Noise still buzzed in his head, along with that one word. The Astronomer found no sleep that night and felt a new fire ignite in his belly.

When dusk hit, The Astronomer found himself bounding from his bed in giddy delight, excited to listen to The Noise again despite the lack of sleep. When he arrived at the observatory, he punched the coordinates into his radar in anticipation. Though, to his dismay, The Noise was no longer there.

He panicked and frantically combed all visible space for hours to find The Noise. It took him over half a work-day, several hours before he could find it again. This time, it was closer to The Moon. A wave of relief washed over The Astronomer’s body as he heard that buzzing. This time, it sounded far sweeter than before, and it soothed the tremors through his fingers. He listened closely to The Noise, jotting down in his journal frantically so that he could record every minute detail.

The rest of the night he listened to The Noise with a great smile on his face, so pleased by the small secrets it whispered and kissed to his ears. He was so enveloped by the secrets that he was unaware that words were spoken. Sweet, enticing words and promises of more to come. That night, The Astronomer stayed even later in his observatory, too hypnotized by his desire.

For several nights, The Astronomer listened to The Noise. His passion and hunger to learn grew. The records in his journal grew even more illegible over time until they eventually stopped resembling any known language. Yet, The Astronomer knew perfectly well what his writing said, as it was given by The Noise. Night after night, he wrote and listened, gazing up to the utter emptiness where The Noise spoke. Night after night, it moved ever closer to The Moon. Night after night, he stayed later and later.

Until one final night, The Astronomer never returned home.

The stars were brighter that night, brighter than ever before. The Astronomer was unbearably happy listening to The Noise. It knew things. It knew the secrets of the universe, the truth, and what The Astronomer wanted. It promised him many things. It promised to show him everything, to give him everything he could ever want. Though it too had a desire: devotion, love, The Astronomer.

The Noise was on The Moon now, offering The Astronomer its deal. A deal The Astronomer too readily accepted in his zealous fervor. It whispered its instructions into his ears, and he exclaimed his praise. He wrote one final entry in his journal: a clear and crisp amalgamation of runes in some unknown tongue, some eldritch and unknowable language that only he understood.

His desire was clear. As The Noise instructed, he shed his clothes. With a small penknife, he carved those same runes across his exposed body as though it were a canvas and the knife a brush, feeling the blood of his devotion drip from the runes. The Astronomer was content, and his mind was made clear. He stepped outside and walked out into the night with closed eyes.

The grass licked at his calves, the wind caressed his body in anticipation, and The Astronomer dared to gaze up at the stars. What he beheld was not the night sky, but a face. A face that no mortal would possibly comprehend with their limited understanding. It changed and flowed like an ocean current. The stars were no longer stars but billions of eyes peering down onto his mortal coil. In its crescent form, the moon was no longer a moon but a smiling, ivory maw. He heard The Noise again in his naked ears, freed from the constraints of his radar.

He raised his arms in acceptance and was hoisted up. The closer he got, the more secrets were revealed. Enlightenment burrowing itself into his being. Eventually, those secrets grew quieter. He grew closer to the maw, desperate to listen. Closer and closer until…

Nothing.

There was nothing. No noise, no secrets, no life nor death, and no Astronomer.

Only the moon remained.