Baalus will find no souls on this dormant structure, only endless catacombs and cavities filled with instruments with no places for operators. To his dismay, the structure begins to tremble. By some unrecognized error, the cold metal giant wakens, the grinding of machinery can be heard through the vibrations of its great bulkheads. His reaction time failed to dismiss him from one of the rapidly approaching armatures. Not fast enough to get out of the way, even less to make it back through tunnels from which he came to the rapidly sealing chinks in the hull armor. The transparent shield of Baalus' little craft began to crack, draining precious methane to the void outside in tight streams of steam.

By the time Cleticine's mind had reached full activity after a 40,000 year slumber, the remains of Baalus and his vessel could not be recognized from the plethora of matter that now stream, reinvigorated to the subatomic refineries.