In the beginning there was life. From the raw beautiful chaotic birth of the cosmos, emerged a form. The pinacle from which all life was to be given fruit, it came and it saw. It could not comprehend, all it could do was observe. This dark uninviting void was it's new domain, this empty vast expansion of antimatter was his home now. The being floats alone as it came, confused; for it's brain was much too underdeveloped. As time pasts, the suspended mass acquires a sense of sentient awareness and attempts speech. The universe responded and the very stars scatter across the void. The being; the name it had now consiously given itself - watched in amazement as the universe unfolded, revealing all it's secrets. The being was now with purpose upon witnessing this beautiful outburst of energy and life. The universe had spoken to him indirectly, clearing the fog. The being moves from it's place of birth, pushing past galaxies in a single moment, seemingly headed else.

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The big bang, is the cosmological term. It's been 13.8 billon years since then and much has occurred, so much. Outside the observable universe, in the clog of everlasting shadow, we find the being at the core of a dying planet. It sits on the planet's mantle, white powdery complexion bright in the dark enclosing. It is here to observe, nothing more. The planet goes out in a blaze of radiation, the being is unmoved nor injured. It's gained experience with a number of things but it's shell seems ageless. It's immortal course set with no end in sight. The being walks it's path, as it should be.