I sat on a fiery red horse, sword held high in my right, fate of the world held in my left. And riding towards me, in that oblivion, was a pale, white horse; and he who sat on that horse was named Death, and Hell followed after him. And within that Hell; the resting place of the dead, a thousand souls followed, dragged behind; remnants of their past selves, screaming silently in anguish.

Then from the distance grew a throne of willow roots, coming closer and closer, growing further and further towards me, brimming with life, wild with green, vines mingling with the wood from which it grew from. And there sitting on that throne rested Life, and Paradise grew around her; fed by the milk dripping from bosoms bodacious and honey pooling from between her legs. Fairies fluttered around, collecting her milk and honey, spreading far and wide, the seeds of the willow, fed by the mixture of Life’s bodily fluids.

And as I sat atop that red horse, sword dripping blood, Time swept from behind me and the trails of the past followed. Windows opened as memories flowed; memories not of mine, but of the world. And in that instant, knowledge seeped into my mind, and for a moment I knew all that there was to know.

Then Space crept up from below; growing, rising, higher and higher, until it was no longer below, but above. And as it grew and rose, it loomed over me, a giant, towering above all.

Then Death spoke to me and said, “I am Death. I am Eternal. Permanent. And all who attempt to escape or challenge me shall soon follow me in Hell. And to those that accept me, I grant you sword, plague and famine.”

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Then Life whispered to me, sweet and softly. “ I am Life. I am bountiful. Abundant. I am love. Pleasure. And all who accept me shall live to their fullest, tasting all that is sweet and pleasing, living for the next morsel that I shall grant myself, the source of which is my own vessel, from which I live from. And if you resist the bounty of the harvest, then you and your seed shall starve, and only suffering will follow you in its wake.”

Then Time opened up her books and read to me, “Behold, for I am Endless, a sea of memories, of both inanimate and animate, from which there is no beginning and there is no end. You ride on my tide and I am your ocean. A single soul, alone, set adrift at sea.”

Then Space stood, silent and unwavering. He towered over me, with neither word nor action. I stared at the abyss, and the abyss stared back at me.

I sat atop my blood dripping mount, sword weeping above it, its eyes burning with violence. And as it noted my hesitation, it huffed out a neigh of defiance. The four beings that controlled the very rules of all worlds, hovered over that oblivion and waited for my response. They stood with poise of strength and confidence, demanding answers for my actions, assured that they were right and that I would eventually submit in agreement.

I sat atop my red horse, trailing a trail of blood and fire, screams of pain and anger behind me. And as I looked into the faces of these superior beings, who did not take responsibility for the suffering they had caused, I gripped the fate of the world in my left hand and crumbled it to dust, and as the dust dissipated, I shattered the shackles of order, and liberated chaos.