"On the planet's surface, a great crystal tower"

The remnant ember of a dying star drifts along the galactic fringe, companioned solely by a tiny world. On the planet's surface, a great crystal tower lords over a vast and airless plain. The cooling star's blue light draws the tower's shadow across the land and marks the passing of the ages. Through the core of the tower runs an artery of living flesh. Branching paths of blood are refracted within facets. At the base of the spire there is no door, no entryway but at the top a fleshy orifice Once or twice an age for purpose unknown the tower's mouth expels a living human, to fall down and down through the airless space, and land atop a scree of other people. A traveler passing on foot would be forgiven for wondering why so many other travelers had approached the tower and flung themselves down at its base to die. Perhaps it was in prayer. Or perhaps they were searching for an entryway for a door which doesn't exist.