The vacuity, slate scree unending, the spring coils and trap is sprung. A rapturous paroxysm unravels, a glorious, pointless birth. In amniotic detritus of a billion fetal suns, the zenith of fractals, the forging of dust. Gobbets of life matter courted in the aether. He was born of nothing, serving no end, but in his cunning, claimed all that is. He nested at the apex of all nebula and sat squat upon celestial debris, All that followed his sentience, saw him as creator They carved the construct of heaven for him to dwell within Stars were tethered to light his ascent, worlds collapsed to pave his halls. The nuclei of atoms bent unwillingly and cast against the facia of his kingdom. He shackled thought and chastised free will and saw that this was good