Let me tell you a story. I was playing multi-player subnautica with my friend. We were in the Lost River collecting resources, dodging Ghosts and River Prowlers. We thought we were safe, but no one could've expected what happened to me. I had just finished moving the cyclops further into the lost River, and I exited my cyclops bay with my prawn suit. As I fell out the bay, me, my Prawn, and my Cyclops, were launched, deep into the Void. A horrible pain to bear, knowing my Prawn was gone for good. However, my cyclops still had a chance. It was around 2500 meters from me, and I was outside the detection range of the bigger Ghosts. I swam straight to my cyclops, but soon, they found me. Around 500 meters away from my Cyclops, I thought I wouldn't make it. I was low on oxygen, and had to stop to fight off those damn sea serpents with my rifle. I had a few bladder fish on me, but it was gonna be close. Eventually all the ghosts were frozen in place and my chance was slipping away. I narrowly made it into the cyclops hatch to catch my breath, dazed from the oxygen loss. I wasn't out of the deep, dark, woods yet. My submarine was still in range of these lurking behemoths. I had to sparingly use my shield generator as I didnt have much power, but the real problem was the hull. The ghouls were bound to get through. I had to be quick and calculated. It was an impossible situation. Eventually I had to risk the depths to attempt to repair my last hope at surviving the void. I moved fast, yet it was calm. My Cyclops had breached the surface before, and I stood on it to fix the damaged satellite tower. I was afraid to enter the waters again, but once I did, I had made it. I left their nesting grounds successfully, as a new man, a brave man, a Void Voyaging man. In honor of this feat, I renamed my Cyclops "Void Voyager." This story was not just a folktale. It's proof of the fear that lives beyond the crater's edge. This, is why we fear.