"I dreamed of a scorched universe, a dying star's light illuminating the endless darkness as all sentient life had been cleaned up and this region of the Cosmos returned to the nothingness from which it came."
The voice didn't travel very far because there wasn't much in the way of mediums to carry sound in this desolate corner of the multiverse.
"But that dream was not mine."
The speaker seemed to sigh as the words left their lips, their gaze looking up to the dim glow of a dying star as they watched its last embers slowly fade.
"I was but a construct, a device, a tool created by the one who had that dream.
The dream of ridding his universe of the dirty parasites he believed sentient lifeforms, himself included, to be."
The speaker shook their head while twirling a sceptre between their fingers as they sat on the frozen surface of a dead planet, waiting for the star it orbited to perish.
