“One must have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.” - Nietzsche

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The time has come.

Yes, we can no longer wait.

The stars must fall.

The gates must open.

And in the darkness is an end to all worlds.

----

Egypt 6000 B.C.

The God of Death smiled down at the quivering group who knelt in front of him as he sat on his throne.

“Do you know where you are?”

The group were too frightened, half of them praying to the other Gods to save them, the other half crying out in regret at what they had not done before they passed through.

Death smiled, leaning forward and noting one individual was solemnly sitting to the side.  

“Oh?  There is one who does not know fear?”

The individual glanced blankly at Death before looking at the piece of cloth in their hand.  It looked clearly torn from a tunic and it had the bright beading that indicated it belonged to a child.

Death waited for the individual, but she only held the scrap to her chest. She held it like it as the most precious thing left in the world.

“Do you wish to see your child again?”  He asked a hint of curiosity to see such overwhelming emotions plague these creatures.  And yet Death was drawn to the vibrancy of their lives.

Only then did the individual glance up with a spark of hope in her eyes.

Death chuckled.  “What would you offer to be reunited?”

Only then did she come forward with a desperate look in her eyes.  “Please, I will give you everything. Just let me see him one last time.”

Death smiled in satisfaction.  “Anything?”

She nodded, kneeling low and moving forward even more.

Death nodded to a servant by the doors and moments later, a small boy with a tunic the same color as the scrap she held was brought in.

The boy looked dazed, as if pulled from a dream, and was ushered towards the throne where Death sat.  

The mother gasped, recognizing her son as he stood blankly beside Death.

“Please, please release him from your grip.  Take me instead.”  She pleaded, now sounding like the other blubbering humans behind her.

At her pleading, the conversation had lost its lustre and Death sighed.  He waved a hand and the same servant dragged the boy away.

“No, please let him live.  He is too young to be in this afterlife.”  She continued to plead with him.  “I will do anything.  Please, just let him live!”

“You cannot offer anything of value.  You have already passed into the afterlife.  With your son.”  He coolly reminded her, extending his hand at the room where all souls pass before entering the afterlife.

She sobbed, still gripping the fabric.

Death gestured to the same servant to re-appeared and took the woman through the doors.  He would grant her a small mercy and allow them in the same afterlife.

——

Egypt 5435 B.C.

The people cried out in happiness as their beloved Pharaoh waved from her balcony. She held the hand of her son, who shyly waved and stood proudly beside his mother.

“Long live our Pharaoh!  Long live the son of her highness!”  They chanted over and over.

Drinks and food were freely distributed, celebrating the royal family’s honour.  And a mourning for the Pharaoh originally intend to be one if it weren’t for the passing of her dear husband.

There were many who solemnly lit floating lanterns to wish for his soul to rest while they hoped that their beloved Pharaoh would reign over them for eternity. Incense wafted in between the rich aroma of the offerings.

Innocent children ran throughout the crowds, chasing the lanterns and their sweet laughter filling the air.  In the centre square, the statue of the Pharaoh was unveiled and a sea of blue lotus surrounded it. 

The festivities would run long into the night, until even the stars who watched would enjoy to its fullest.  

——

Egypt 4350 B.C.

The God of Chaos wrung his hands together, feeling strangely human as he endured the wails of his Queen who struggled with their child within her.  He sat at his throne, in the inner sanctum of their quarters and he did not feel like he was a God at this moment.  

For what meaning is there to be a God if he cannot even comfort his own consort.

“Do something!”  He thundered, ordering the nearest servant who was pouring him a glass of wine.  The servant flinched, jumping back.  

“Forgive me, my lord.”  He stammered, attempting to kneel down and wipe away with his own gown.  The wine spilled over the marble floor, the shape of the splatter reminding Chaos of the lifeblood when slashing an opponent.

Frowning at the potential omen of this image on such a momentous day, he reached out and slashed at the servant with his claw.  The servant’s eyes rolled back before exploding into fine dark dust.  Moments later, he appeared again and lowering his head, he quietly took his leave.

His Queen cried out again and before he was tempted to tear down the walls and wage war on anyone else foolish enough to be near him, there was a small cry that turned into a soft and sleepy whimper.  

He stood up at the sound and approached the doors only to half at the sound of another small cry.  This one was louder and more indignant as if someone dared to deliver them when they were content to stay warm and comfortable within its mother.

The double doors opened and a servant ran out, her face flushed with awe.

“My lord, the Queen has delivered twins!”

—

Galaxy X-173 3495 B.C.

The God of Metal and Creation glanced calmly at the world that collided when an unknown God thought to seek out more than they are granted.

The dwarves race scrambled along the mountainous terrain, praying for their Gods to protect them and to give them strength. 

Creator watched the lands split into irreparable cracks, rivers bubbling and covered in flame and skies torn asunder.  He could hear this world groaning from the strain and He knew this world would be no more.

But the dwarves race were more knowledgeable in metalwork and with the heart of a warrior, more than any other race he’s ever reigned over.  There were times where he even deigned to walk among them, disguised as one of their own, and learned many interesting things.

Yes, if all worlds should end, dwarven-kind deserved his protected at the very least.

But where would they go, he wondered.  They would need land, safe home, and access to great veins of metal in a mountainside to continue their wonderful discoveries.

Creator decided that the dwarves would be worthy of a place within lands he would create as their sanctuary.  Only until they were ready to reclaim their world someday.  Led by the chosen one that the Celestials above whispered.

Raising his hands, he allowed the dwarves to be swept into a portal. His all-seeing eyes scanned the dying world, ensuring he could save as many as possible.

With a hand to his heart and a touch to his lips, he willed a similar world for them within the portals. 

—

Shibuya 20XX

A boy and his sibling walked hand in hand, singing a song they just learned in school.

“Onii-san, where did mama go?”

The boy stopped on the sidewalk, still holding her hand.  He tried to hide his worry and smiled for his sister, who smiled back.

“Mama went to the doctor because she had a tummy ache.  But she’ll be back soon and she’ll make our favourite cake.”

Her eyes sparkled and she cheered.  “Yay, let’s hurry home!”

He let go of her hand, watching her skip down the street, one hand holding a flower she was planning to gift to her mother.  He let the smile disappear as soon as she wasn’t looking and stared up at the sky. He scanned until he found his favorite one and solemnly kept his gaze on it.

Please make mama better.  I’ll do anything.  I’ll be a good boy, I’ll clean and take care of my sister.  I’ll take care of the house when papa is away on business.

Please protect my family.

-----

Celestial Heavens

A lone star watched the people below from the cold stillness of the heavens.  She watched in wonder as people discovered new lands and found hope in each other.  She watched with tears in her vivid blue eyes as the same people tore each other apart in pursuit of treasures and glory.

Another star gently sat down where she was watching.  

That is why we watch only in the deep of night when the mortals are asleep, dear one.  Why must you torment yourself so?

She couldn’t tear her gaze away and let the tears fall as she continued to watch. 

Because if I do not, then who will be keepers of the true events of these worlds?