Somewhere, in place high above everything, beyond all dimensions, logic and objective truth, beyond all mathematical possibilities and narrative works, standing at the peak of all Creation, is a high rise apartment building. A curious structure, if one were to step onto its balcony and look down below, they would find that while the ground below and the cars driving through the streets of the city can be easily seen, the building has no bottom. It extends downward into infinity, housing most of reality, the very story you're reading now and giving all unprepared observers a terrible headache. In this very swanky looking building, on the highest floor, is where the gods of this world reside. These Greater Beings, as they prefer to be called, are once again embroiled in a vicious argument. One that if left unchecked could destroy everything that has ever existed.

"Come ooonnnnn!" Moaned a young female voice.

"I already told you NO!" Another, older, female voice yelled back. "Not until you apologize for breaking my TV."

A young girl, looking to be about sixteen in human years, folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. "Oh come on! That was ages ago." she turned to a pair of boys sitting on one of the small sofas that littered the small apartment. "Time, how long ago was that?"

The boy, Time, who looked to be ten, didn't even look up as he answered with no hesitation. "About a couple trillion years ago." He returned his full undivided attention to the game he and his twin Space were playing on a tablet-like device. A game where they subtly changed the definition of time and space on some 34th dimensional meerkats. The meerkats possessed a natural sense for time and space so having one second briefly become an hour for a small group, or having one suddenly having to walk a mile to reach a berry that was five feet away always sent the colony into a tizzy, providing great amusement for the boys.

"See? Ages ago. Besides, it was an accident anyway and you've already replaced it." stated Probability. "Why does it even matter? You could just ask Time to rewind it for you, or ask the Writer over there-" The man sitting on his own on an armchair, who had been thoroughly engrossed with scribbling in his notepad, looked around, blinking owlishly at the mention of his name. "To write it breaking out of existence, or just go ask Death to undo it."

"We've been over this Probs, it's not about the TV, it's the principal of the thing. I want my apology before I give you ANY of my power." Infinity said petulantly

"You're not getting one over something as small and replaceable as a TV. You know you're going to have to give it to me sooner or later. The longer you hold out, the higher the odds of Creation spontaneously poofing out of existence are, and you wouldn't want to piss off C.R.S up there would you?"

Everyone in the room gave it a thought, then shuddered at the thought of what an angry omnipotent what do to them. They were concepts. They were the building blocks of existence, the very foundation of reality. Without them, you'd have nothing. Actually you wouldn't have nothing as nothing is still a thing to have. There exists no word to describe what I'm talking about so I won't use one. Without these Greater Beings you'd have left over. They couldn't die. They were ideas. 'Killing' an idea as basic as these just meant they'd show up again worded differently.

Unfortunately for them, C.R.S. was Omnipotent meaning that he didn't really care much for any that and could do it anyway.

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Infinity stubbornly stuck to her guns. "If he wants to come down here and beat our asses then so be it, I'd rather die than give into your whining." She then widened her eyes slightly as a realization came to her. "It doesn't even matter anyway. Everything ending wouldn't even register as a blip on his radar. Even if it DID, he's God. He can just remake everything exactly as it was before. You're just trying to scare us."

Everybody stared off into space as they thought about it. It made sense. Probability huffed as her bluff was called and moved to her last resort.

Begging.

"Pleeeaaaaaseee, I'm running out and all the low odds are happening in quick succession. It's so boring. I need your power to buffer those once in a lifetime events. Do you even know what thats like? It's like being given every present you'll ever recieve in your life time on the same day. There's no suspense or tension, nothing to look forward to." She paused for a moment. "See, there it is again! Another one-in-a-trillion odds event happening, just like that!"

The Writer guiltily shifted his notebook away from Probabilitys view.

Infinity leaned in. "Awww, That sounds terrible." she crooned.

Probability leaned in with a growing smile. "It does, doesn't it?"

"I guess you should have thought of that before you broke my TV."

Probability groaned in frustration "You are impossible you know that?"

Space looked up from his game. "Shouldn't all these grand possibilities be fun for you? I mean, all these big events happening simultaneously sounds like great fun to me."

Probability glanced over at him from the glaring contest she and her sibling had engaged in. "Of course it would. Your idea of fun is questionable at best, no offense."

Space grinned. "None taken."

"I don't expect most of you to agree but I think that even the most mundane of chances are exciting in their own way."

Space looked at his older?, younger? His sister. He looked at his sister with an unreadable expression for a moment. "You're weird."

"Oh whatever twerp, I wouldn't expect a simple-minded fool such as yourself to get it."

Space opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a shout from the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready, get your butts in here before it gets cold."

Death walked out of the kitchen. His face resembled a human skull while the rest of his robes were a deep, almost black, shade of grey. He looked like most stereotypical depictions of death mortals had. He was actually quite fond of that perception of himself too. He thought he looked very intimidatidating.

Vaguely human skull? Check.

Dark robes? Check.

Oversized, antiquated farming equipment? Check.

The only thing that looked out of place was the hot pink apron with big white letters that said 'Kiss the cook', but he made it work. The rest of the family in the living room immediately jumped to their feet, argument forgotten. Only The Writer remained sitting, he crossed his legs and began scratching the short stubble that was beginning to grow.

Life poked her head out of the kitchen. "You coming?"

The Writer shook his head. "No thanks, I've just gotten an idea and I wanna write it down before I do anything else."

"Alright, suit yourself. Leftovers will be in the fridge if you want them later."

She turned and walked back into the kitchen to join the rest as The Writer slowly pulled his hand away from his chin.

'One hell of an idea.' He thought to himself as he brought pen to paper.

'And I think it starts like this.'