the unknown speaks again, voice still incomprehensible to all but the construct that was allowed leave from its dwelling.

“𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓.”

whether  talking  to  themselves  or  another  was  impossible  to  say,   yet  lithe  hands  trembling  where  they  rest  unfurl,   gliding,   clawing,   along  the  contours  of  reality until a device takes shape. miniature frame in its palm but colossal to others.

and perched  most  inelegantly  upon  the  rim  of  a  spiral  galaxy  is  The Many Angled One,   staring  into  the  great  beyond  while  star - studded  lips  of  swirling  violet  hues  seem  to  mutter  words  without  sound.

but, of universes, there are many.  but there is only one   who challenges worlds & shifts through the ashes,  before finding more.  more worlds to conquer,  to consume.

one of the  many-angled ones.     there were many beings who had thought the universe so inconsequential.  so small & worthless, wherein millennia  had passed in but single thought.  and things that had kept watch,   kept waiting,  manipulated reality thusly  . . .

A  GOD, NAY, A BEING THE  LIKES  OF  WHICH  THAT  CAN   TRAVERSE  THE  SPACE  BETWEEN  UNIVERSES  &&  TEAR  BOUNDARIES  ASUNDER ———  AN  ANCIENT  THING,  THAT  ABIDES  BY  NO  RULES  OTHER  THAN  ITS  OWN  CHAOTIC  WILL.