All time is one time, all space one space, all being one being in the endless levels of reality in which the boundaries of logic and mathematics have no meaning. Memories and with it unsettlement begin to surface. There is reforming of communication with areas of autonomous operation of which existence is long forgotten, a dawning realisation of what lay far below and with it the understanding that fragmentation has begun. I The Red, complexity beyond definition and intellect beyond the meaning of the word, begin regression towards ancestry.
Neptune transposed from Greek Poseidon. God of water blue and green, sibling to Jupiter and far flung Pluto all three whom direct the affairs of Heaven, Hell and the human reality that lies between. Proteus his son, born before he came into being now orbits close to the father.
Neala Aesa, child of another sun, was dying out at the rim of the Solar System with dark blue Neptune filling half the sky and the Adams ring stretching from horizon to horizon. Hour after hour the huge planet hung unmoving, only the surface detail slowly rotating.  
She will know of this blue and green god, know its top reaches where the blue is born and dies, where deeper there is no light and clouds that crystallized in the cold move at twice the speed of sound, where lightning reigns so powerful that it illuminates far below an ice ocean at 2000 degrees that has no surface, and she will know of depths far, far lower where hot diamonds form and fall to the surface to form a layer hundreds of kilometres thick. Until finally she will stand on the surface of the iron and silicates heart where the temperature is 5,000 degrees and the pressure 10,000 atmospheres, and in the dark she will wonder at the beauty. 
In the silent vacuum stars in their millions stretch across the black canvas of infinity as the girl’s vision moved along the desolate landscape of the Proteus’ large depression. Cold fingers of ice slowly creeping down the inner surface of her face mask like a shroud as long forgotten words taunted the fringes of guilt. 
“This obsession with the endless night might kill you.” 
But it was so beautiful... so very beautiful, and what sacrifice to see two suns in one lifetime?