Long, long ago in a distant Time and Space, Reality shutters as something new is born, neither living nor dead, real or unreal, it simply was. Time and Space had not settled from the violent eruption of this being, so it lay suspended in the void, the passage of time no consequence, for while in this pocket, as it was called, it neither hungered or slept, for these concepts were foreign to it. Eventually, however Time stabilized and flowed again, and for the first time the being became aware. It looked to the void and darkness surrounding it and felt the urge to say ̷̟̻̯͔̌̊"̸̛̠͎̖̦͆͂͐̉́͛ ̸̢͉̜̞̔̇̎̚L̴̪͕̳̄̑̃̑̑̕̚E̶̜̬̘̥͈̞̝͑̒T̴̢̞̭̞̐͒̽͌̉͜ ̷̨̡͙̠͍̖̇̇̆͋́Ṱ̷̕H̸̤͖̱͉̩͔̐͊͝E̸̳̅̈́̋͘ͅR̵̟̣͗͂̋E̶͓͍̽̉ ̶̢̬͚͇̄̀̚͘B̷̥͋E̶͍͌͛̒̃ ̴̼̼͕͈̯̫̄͑̈́L̸̨͓͇̬͆̇̒̿́̑͝I̵͓̟̫̓́͜ͅF̷̧͕̪̥͓͕̥̒̽̐͘E̸̡̜̟̼̖̝̤̍͐̃̌̆"̴̜͓͊͐̓̈͆̍͝ ̷̡̭̬̤̱̿̄̔ And so Life was made manifest, a being of incandescent energy, the new being Looked around confused for it was in the void, before gazing upon the being who willed it into being, "̶̡̣̠̩̌͂ ̷̨̗͖̓́͘͝Ĺ̴̢̢̙̟̪̹̰̃̃̀͠͝E̶͇̯̻͍̞̹̩͌T̷̻́̌͊͝ ̴̢̛̥̥̈́̈́̋͐T̴̼̕Ḩ̸̻̲̰̩̼̦̈́̌̿̔̂͠͠Ẻ̵͈͉̍͊̏̎̚R̶͇̟̦͒͐̕͝͝E̵̲̬̙͇͍͉̥̾̈́̂̿́͝ ̶̡̧̛͚͈̯̇̋̚͠B̷̢̩̊́Ě̷̦̜̙ ̶̼͔̠̦̦̽̈́̓̓̈́͠D̸̢̺͙̞̬͂̂Ę̵̼̤̗̮̜̬̽͋Ä̶̡̛͈͈̙́̎͆͐̄͠T̷̳̳̠̿͐́̕͝ͅH̶̗̬̪̪̣̻͒͘"̴͇̭̭͎͐́̏̓̉ and so another being was made manifest, one of darkness but not of the void, for its darkness spoke of the end of all things, and it too looked upon the being. L̵̗͛̉Ê̶̢̘̂͆Ț̶̢̗̫͇̼̖͑ ̴̙̹̥̃̚͜T̸̪͔̭̭̈́ͅͅH̸̡͔͔͙̍̂̌̃̍̀́E̶̞̹̠̬͗͑̓͐̒͜Ŕ̸̦̯͙͙͓̘͜È̶͉̺͓͋͆̑͂͋͋͜ ̷̻̱̮͔̱̏͂̈́̐B̸̺͚̪̐͒̾͘̚͘Ē̷̡͎̬̠͖̮͈̓̓̆͘ ̷̟̂̌̈̂̈́̓L̶̤̀̅̓A̸̯̲̲̜͑͂̿͌̾̚̚N̷͈̲͔̈̀͝D̴̝̹̘̰̎͂,̸̳̩̜̮͖̫͑̂̀̕͠͠͝ ̷̡͎̝̦̘̭̮̌́̄̑̓̚͠Ẅ̸̟̙̠̳̣́A̷̦͚̩̋̇̈́͑T̶̢͓̜̽́͌E̴͖͇̤̓R̷̰̥͉̦͉̅̈́̍̌́̾͜ ̷̨̲̭̟̩̟̓̏͊͜Ḁ̵͖̱͛̎͐̅̐̃̾N̴̥̭̩̬͖͓̋Ḍ̵̢̄̒ ̶͇͓̯̳̭͋͘S̶̳͇̺̍̈́̏̈͒̕͝Ḱ̵̪̹̭̯̃Y̴̳̹̍͂̈́̉̒́"̵̯̽̈́̽ And planets burst from the void, forming from the dust of the beings birth. And so Life looked upon these worlds, newly born and forming the heat of creation rapidly cooling in the absolute zero of the void, and it was struck with an urge ""̵͙̪̖̜̼̠̓̌͊L̸͉̰̘̰͕̯̔̃̆ͅE̵͎͍͓̫̽͐̔͒̏̈͠T̵̛̠̥̺̤̃͊͘ͅ ̶̛̥̍T̸̥̳̩͈̯̃͋̆̾̾͂̓H̸͚̐̾͛Ë̶̢͔͈͎́͂̌̂̍́R̶̡̝͓͚̠̱̂̿̽̕͝͝Ẻ̵̮̤̼̟̻̫̓̽͗̐͠ ̸̲̤̄̐̈́̈B̵̩̼̜̒̽̽̚Ę̴̠̲̠̻̦̞͆̆̌ ̷̡̻͕̜͔̞͆̑͐͊̐͘l̶̛̮͌̆̕̚͘͝ͅí̶̗͕͕̰͉̂f̵̹͚̺̝̱̺̌̔ë̵͎́͗̇ͅ"̶̯̥̳̈́͆͜ and so life was born, in the smallest possible vessels, to grow and thrive upon the newly made worlds. And Death looked upon creation and knew his purpose, to Shepard those who fall to his all encompassing influence, through himself into the fold anew. And so it was known, that without life, Death's purpose would be meaningless, but without Death, Life would be meaningless, for without it life would grow without limit and choke the spark from the worlds of their birth.

Stolen novel; please report.