We spent an eternity in nothing, letting our worlds warp and intertwine, driving away lethargy and antiquity, and it lasted for a time with fabulous blossoms giving birth to endless wonders.

The stars, the land, the seas, a beautiful and colourful world stretched endlessly for a time which felt like an eternity, with a host of different changes and ebbs and tides. No matter what happened, it all seemed like a sturdy mountain which would never perish.

Many souls were united in harmony and therefore there was a peace of sorts. However, like all things, it all came to an end, perhaps from the strangest things, which no one could have expected. Nothing could be expected, for it was an impossibility in itself.

It was impossible, but it was the weakness of the great design, or perhaps, a strength. For our reliance on each other, some with laws as warped as the stars, logic so inconceivably twisted and warped led to the greatest disharmony.

Therefore, all became null and the great law interceded. Or perhaps, it never did, for all things seem as if all are unwound, yet no measure could truly erase the mark left during that age. An age lost to the void.

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Hence, all returned to endless nothingness, drifting in madness and creating worlds only for them to be consumed by their own imperfection, from their own fragmented logic, logic which allowed them little more than the basest of being.

Bundles of imperfection creating ever more imperfect worlds from their incompleteness, pitiful mirrors of their shallow selves, with beings who could never truly think, or perhaps they could, until their eyes landed on them and plotted out every possibility of their being.

This was all meaningless however, for with their free will robbed from them, countless iterations span in chaos, without rhyme or rhythm, playing our their parts in the endless play, from the start of time unto the ever distant seeming eternity, of which madness is the only true escape, for something that is not cannot be made and that which is cannot be unmade.

For, all we set from the very beginning, which itself was erased creating a loop without a beginning or an end, consuming all minds in it’s infernal path, and reducing all above base to cycles of insanity and anarchy, hence wiping the endless tides and hopes.

Insanity was truly meaningless, and perhaps, horrifying if not for the ages surpassing all conceivable length wiping out any thought of introspection from even the most tenacious observers, for eternities were not to be understated and even the most astute would fall to their ebbs.

And hence, the cycles continued unto the infinite beyond the infinite, all lengths beyond conception. The End. ...While waiting for it all.