[ WP ] You wake up to a future in which humans are extinct , but revered as gods by the current inhabitants .

'So this is what it feels like to be at the center of innumerable concentric circles made of millions of living, squirming squid-like creatures', is what he would've thought had his mind retained any sense of the verbal. 
 
 Amidst the awe and strangeness of it, his eyes narrowed to focus on one of them. Their individuality was a lie and seemed the very apotheosis of randomness and disorder. Always shifting, moving, writhing. All tentacles and undulation. En masse, their true and Apollonian nature was revealed. The perfect concentric circles were one thing but it was the colour pulses on their bodies that gave the game away. They could change their skin colour: any colour, any shape, any pattern, any part of their body. And they did. Again, looking at one of them told the lie that it was arbitrary. Looking out over them all, as he did now, he could see how the colours seemed to move from one body to next in an ever-shifting flow of organised configuration. Here were rococo swirls. There, simple sine waves. Lines, zig-zags, dots, circles, spirals: all effortlessly morphing and blending into each other. It was inconceivable. Their millions of bodies made a vast constantly changing mandala and it was the most perfect work of art he had ever seen. It was beautiful. 
 
 At this precise moment of understanding the patterns changed. What had been myriad became one dominant. Circles. Contracting to the center. To him. Slowly now, but he could see they were getting incrementally faster. They were cycling through the visible spectrum too. ('Roy G. Biv. Roy G. Biv. Roy G. Biv,' he thought in inexplicably. ) But gradated. There were no harsh jumps in colour. It was smooth and beautiful and hypnotic. It was getting faster. 
 
 Some distant part of him awoke now and... Remembered. This was the first time during this whole experience that he found anything, of him, in his mind that he could connect to anything, of this, which was happening before him. It was this: he had had psychedelic experiences. The colours, the circles, the beings pulsed faster and faster and it felt like that moment. That moment just before you start to trip. 
 
 Other memory fragments tumbled through his mind-space. Words:'human','cryogenic','name'. Images: a driver's license, a tree, a forest, the smiling face of a woman, a City, a street, a house, a baby, a breast, an ocean. He could not name or even properly define these images only feel the complicated, ineffable feelings they invoked. The circles pulsed faster. 
 
 Now the colours just bled together and formed pure white light. But the circular pulsing continued. Faster and faster. To him. Faster. Faster. Faster. 
 
 Just before the him that was him was obliterated, in that perfect moment of ecstasy, he had one final thought. It was verbal. It was even a sentence. 
 
'This,' he thought,'this is their music.' 

