After the OPA destroys its soldiers, Venus completes its work: a glowing tentacled structure larger than Ganymede rises, scatters the fleet, and flies off into the void.
After Fred Johnson nukes the last hundred protomolecule soldiers in the Belt, the entity on Venus finishes its billion-year labor. On a live feed (delayed forty-seven minutes, from the ship Celestine) the Rocinante crew and Luna's assembled powers watch the dark side of Venus pulse like planetary lightning and then glow: vast iridescent filaments thousands of kilometers long, spokes on a wheel, light and vanish. Something enormous rises through the cloud cover like a fish surfacing under a tank — spoke-like tentacle strands arcing with lightning storms, joined to a rigid central node, larger than Ceres, larger than Ganymede.
It climbs free of Venus, hurls the watching ships aside (the Merman sent tumbling), trails a glowing plume of displaced atmosphere, folds its arms together, and accelerates away from the sun under no visible drive — swimming off into the void. The protomolecule has become something utterly inhuman and complete, and it has left. Whatever it was building, and wherever it is going, is now a new and open question hanging over the whole system.
A vast glowing structure larger than Ganymede — iridescent spoke-like tentacles arcing with lightning around a rigid central node, trailing a sunlit plume of Venusian atmosphere as it swims off driveless.
The shrouded planet from which the completed protomolecule structure rises and departs into the void.
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