Portents of a Beacon

A centaur stands before a large glass orb located along some forgotten piece of coastline. The orb is surrounded by a small shallow pool and a circle of stones.

Land can be seen across the surface of the water, but it is uncertain where exactly the vision takes place. There are other figures stood alongside the centaur, but they, too, are blurry. Humanoids of varying shapes and sizes. Whether Natsu herself is among the bystanders, she is uncertain. The vision is an out of body experience, and her sight shifts and blurs in strange ways. She refocuses, trying to make sense of the scene. The orb is a beacon, and the centaur has come to do something important. Is he there to inspect the beacon? To use it? To destroy it? Natsu somehow gets the impression that the centaur himself does not know, either. He approaches with great hesitation, placing his hands against the surface.
Despite the veil of liquid flowing down the beacon, the centaur does not get wet. The water seems to bend away from his hands. The centaur continues to press against the surface, and lets out a small yelp as his hands go through the glass. For a moment there is silence. Tension. It feels as though some great fabric woven across the multiverse is unraveling itself. No, unraveling is not the right word. Transforming, perhaps? Reforming? Melting? This question is never answered. Suddenly, the centaur is flung backwards, propelled through the air with incredible velocity. The beacon begins to glow, shifting to a bright, sinister pinkish-purple. It begins to levitate into the air, and a high-pitched whining noise erupts from within.
Then the voices came. It was as though those gathered at the beacon could hear each others' thoughts. Then more voices joined in, quickly reaching an incomprehensible chorus. Independent thought became impossible, drowned out by the sheer volume of the voices. Thousands of them. No, more than that. Millions, perhaps. It was as though the universe itself were trying, and failing, to convey something. Something important. The voices grow more confused. Desperate. Turbulent. The sheer cacophony begins to threaten their very sanity.
Then, suddenly, it stops. Silence reigns once again. An image forms within the beacon. Small, at first, but growing. It is that of a giant eye. The centaur appears to recognize it, and is dumbfounded. A single, solitary voice rings throughout their minds, throughout the entire universe, and is heard by all:

Hi, I'm Dave!

Subplots

• Portents of a Beacon II