At that very moment, in that very last millisecond of processing, he knew what it was to love. All the wretched pain and suffering, all the boundless, euphoric joy. Barlowe had never felt a single emotion in all his thousands of years of robotic existence, and now in the moment of his destruction, that most elusive, most fragile, most human of feelings flowed through every circuit and servo and piston, and then was gone.

A series of over 300 drawings. More here.

This is the face of God, hundreds of light years across.