In a location separate from time and space, a man sat. His face was hard to see, but it didn't seem to be because he made any attempt to hide it, it was rather that the Dream Force radiating from him was too strong, it made him look more like a dense mass of potential rather than what he truly was... a man that had reached the limit of all things. Sometimes, he too forgot who he was, not that it mattered much to him. He had reached the pinnacle of the world, but he had lost everything along the way. His father, his mother, the love of his life, his brothers. One by one, they left him, all so that he could sit here, at the end of Existence itself. This was the only location in the world that remained whole. While he was thinking about his family, everything else had already crumbled. There was no more concept of family, no more concept of personhood, or life, even. He should probably be dead too, but he was strong enough to resist things that others could not. It was quite amusing, actually. It was only because he was here that the world couldn't be erased and start anew. Not until all things faded away, until there was nothing left to destroy, until Destruction itself reached its very limits, could Creation bloom once again. His home of Earth had called it the Big Bang. He had heard it called several things throughout his life, he had too many different names for things floating around his mind, he hoped to actually forget some of them, not that his mind would allow it. An infallible memory was probably the wish of many, none of them thought about what kind of curse it was, though. He envied that master of his. He had experienced so many years of life that he had even forgotten his own name. Ah, to forget, what a wonderful thing. The faceless man waved a hand, a bottle appearing. The world around him trembled with rage and squeezed down, but he ignored it as though Existence itself was just a child throwing a tantrum. It didn't like the fact things were still being created. Just this bottle of liquor had cost him half his remaining strength to conjure. He took a swig of the strongest alcohol left, staring into the Northern Star ahead. He had never liked alcohol very much, he avoided it. He liked having perfect control of himself at all times, the idea of a substance that could alter his "perfect" thought filled him with disgust, he hated it. And yet here he was, allowing it as part of his final meal. "Disgusting," he muttered. "Can never tell why men like this so much. I much prefer those fruity drinks." He waved his hand again and pina colada appeared in place of the bottle of hard liquor. This time, Existence didn't protest, probably because he had changed what he had already created instead of creating more. It was a nice little loophole. Compared to the first that had taken half of what he had, this time it wasn't even a drop in the ocean, his deep well of Force was so vast that he could probably consume this Northern Star before him... Not that he cared to. What would be the point? Was there something beyond this Star? They say that it represented Existence, but what did that even mean? The human consciousness was so frail, it couldn't fathom something like this, and even now, having shed all that weakness, it overloaded his mind to think about it... maybe because he knew the answer. He was the only one with the strength to go beyond this Northern Star, to see what was behind it. He had given everything he had to see his loved ones again, twisted fate and time in all kinds of ways. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, if there was something beyond this world, something stronger, something beyond even himself, he could finally do it. He just wanted that chance. He was certain that even if he popped into a world where even he was somehow the weakest ant of the hill, he could climb to the top once again, then he might be able to finally see those faces again, those smiles. He took a sip of his pina colada. "Delicious," he said with a smile, taking another sip. A hand reached up to his face, pushing up what seemed to be a pair of glasses. Who knew why a man of his stature needed such a thing, it didn't seem to make much sense, but he didn't care to remove them. These glasses and himself were the only things that had made it to the end of all things. "You're a funny joke, you know that?" He laughed, raising his glass to the Northern Star. "Did I reach the top of the world? Or was that always you?" There was no response. Of course there was no response. The Northern Star wasn't a person, it had no will, no intelligence. And beyond it... There was absolutely nothing. He remembered how he had felt the first time he learned that, that vast emptiness in his chest, as though Existence was telling him that there was nothing more to chase, and he had already left behind everything that would have made this painful life of his worthwhile. But worse than that, it was frustration, frustration of not understanding, frustration of an unanswered question, frustration of a logical inconsistency. How had Existence come to be? How could there be nothing beyond? How could something come from nothing? What caused this repetitive cycle of life and death, of creation and destruction? Why did they exist? It was so frustrating that he laughed, drinking the last of his drink. He could keep existing into perpetuity, looking into this Star and staring down the existence that even the Gods could do nothing again. Well, he couldn't do anything about it. But... It couldn't do anything to him, either. But, he was tired. Sitting in this very spot, he had tried everything, poured out every potential solution the strongest mind in Existence could think of, and it had all never mattered. He was still alone. He tipped the glass one final time and threw it into the air. It didn't last even a second before it was destroyed. "You win. I, Leonel Morales, accept my loss. Farewell." There was no fanfare. In one moment, there was a single kernel of life remaining. In the next, there was nothing.