Shaniverse Infinities 17

There had once been a world.
There had once been, as any other planet in the galaxy and beyond, a great garden of life on a macroscopic scale, inhabited by a plethora of beings, both sentient and insentient, who played out their lives according to a boundless combination of their visceral natures and conscious desires, each products of billions of years in evolution.
That was once upon a time.
Shattered, beaten, and broken beyond measure, the asteroid field in its place betrayed no indication of its former splendor, any memory of its native civilization having lost itself to the ravages of time, save only for the distant, formerly life-giving star whose dim illumination observed its carcass of a satellite, far before its birth and long after its death — and its current inhabitant.
Coincidence played no part in his presence, its rationale arising from the odd sort of poetic reminder it served. He was no stranger to the source of the extinction event that beset the planet — he had spent more lifetimes than he could count battling this ancient, omnipresent force, its role in the decimation of his homeworld transforming his desire to eradicate it entirely from the universe into the singular mission of his existence.
And given the monumentality of such a task demanded aeons of effort, especially in the particular galaxy he found himself in, the obscure belt served as an ideal base of operations to conduct his crusade against the blight in this theater of the universe, a location in which he could convene with his dreadlords — beings whom he had extracted, molded and cultivated to serve him — regarding the overall progress they had achieved for this galaxy.
Three of such dreadlords had returned.
The three beings, their arrival heralded only by the distant star barely illuminating the area, approached the looming structure, its smooth edges and curves accentuating its artificial origin and purpose that, even without an occupant, could be universally recognized. Stopping short of the throne, the assortment of odd individuals fell to their knees, lowering their heads in a formal bow before their ever-reverent father.
The moments of silence that shattered as a shrill voice pierced the air confined by the surrounding atmospheric shell, carrying forth a word that pleased the master:
"Success."
Category:Chapters
Category:Non-canon