Malek d’Var Krish, Supreme Emperor of the Universe, was dying. Nanotechnology, genetic tweaking and numerous organ transplants had kept him alive, for 752 years, but the most expensive treatments and surgeries done by the most professional doctors and surgeons could only do so much.

Malek lay on his bed, surrounded by dozens of doctors, aides, generals and one lucky reporter. They were all distraught. The one reporter was broadcasting the event to over a thousand planets. Everywhere in the Universe, people cried. The subterranean people of Kal’had braved their planet’s extreme temperatures to show their support of their beloved ruler. The aquatic Kreel surfaced, so they might see the stars and pray while they watched. And the humans of Earth wept, for the man who had brought them from despair into peace and prosperity was going to leave them forever. A trillion beings stared intently at their holopads as a starving man might stare at a plate of food.

Malek’s eyes barely worked, but he could still hear. He heard the stifled breathing and shuffling of his subjects as they tried to give their lord some space. No one dared to talk. He heard the beeping and whirring of the machines that struggled to keep him awake. And in the melody of respectful subjects and hardworking machines, Malek remembered.

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He remembered his childhood, a starving boy with nowhere to go. The war, the poverty...he remembered furious studying and passionate speeches, gaining followers everywhere. Overthrowing the corrupt government and building a new one, with him at the top. Slowly building humanity back to its former glory, and then surpassing it.

Malek remembered first contact, an alien species with warring factions that deprived them of resources. He acted as an intermediary and created a powerful alliance with them. And another species, and another. A web of planets, all supporting each other and growing together.

The Supreme Emperor was dying, but was content. His life’s goal was complete. He had brightened the Universe.

“My wonderful citizens,” he began with a faint voice. Everyone instinctively leaned closer. “My time has come. But I’m happy. All I ever wanted to do was to help others. And I did that, many times. So now, it’s your turn. Make the Universe shine with your collective brilliance. Reach new heights, and then climb even higher. Stay true to each other, so that one day we might call ourselves the Emperors of the Universe”. And with that, he nodded to the doctor standing next to the life support. With tears streaming from his eyes, the poor Pagurd entered the security code, and pulled a lever.

As per his request, Malek, in full garb and helmet, was loaded into a ceremonial cannon, a relic from an ancient warship. To celebrate his triumph over evil and despair, the Supreme Emperor of the Universe was launched in a large explosion through the clouds, into the sky, to die among the stars.

No one dared to even breathe now. And as the song of followers and machines faded away, so did Malek d’Var Krish, Supreme Emperor of the Universe. And the Universe lost its brightest star.