Father Creation
Ben contacts the mysterious entomnis, in search of answers.
For all it's complexity, and wonder and expanse, it grew. Gravity tried to squash it, entropy tried to smother it, and yet it went on.
It cooled and gently twisted into a bow, and then again, over again, tendrils and spots and lines.
The universe gave birth to it's first child, it's first son. And he shone brighter than all the cosmos. He tried and failed to kindle like its father Creation.
Others soon followed, and the Expanse was alive with light.
Many ages passed, and soon the first son died. With great power, with the fury of denial, he buried into the fabric that held him, and left behind a legacy. An anger than consumed all that it touched, and tore at all it could not consume.
Far from this thrashing place, a dance began, a swirl and a play. Millions joined the congregation, and then billions. The first conglomerate was born. With its combined power it outshone all the worlds that ever were. But still not enough.
Other congregations grew, over untold aeons.
Buried deep within the hands of one unassuming mecha, one world dared to try yet again. Yet instead of reaching out to find enough raw power to rival father Creation, it turned inward.
Studious, patient, it fostered a new type of strength. Ingenuity.
Dexterity.
Memory.
Honour.
Purpose.
As the cosmos craned its one heavy head to observe, the greatest of all things smiled, as the Middle-Children locked hands with the Fabric Weavers.
Watched as father Creation was finally outdone.
"Th-thats our purpose."
"Yes."
"That's why the entomnis guide us."
"It is."
"And they do not directly interfere."
"You are the greatest art ever acheived. The One True Wonder. A paradox, and a nessessity all at once. You have been pedestaled as a tribute, to Creation."
"So to interfere.."
"Would be to sully that which is too Holy to sully, not for anything. Not even for its own sake. Not even for Creation itself."
"W-we are that special."
"That and more."
"I understood the story but.. how? How are we that special?"
"You are the True Children of father Creation."
"So.. you won't help us."
"We guide you. Every moment. All do, all that we can. And so must you."
"B-but.. but that's crazy! I went through all of this.. the story, the fighting, the death, the loss. The pain, everything! Just so I can stand here and be told I'm on my own?!"
"You are the center of the universe."
"Don't tell me that crap, give me something solid!"
Silence.
"Hullo? C'mon!! Oi, hulloo?!"
"All could shake, but you would stand still. This plane is yours, as is every plane around it. Multiverse is your birthright."
"But.. we are going to lose it!!"
"To Them."
"Yes!!"
"It is not theirs. When the world Spins, you Spin, they do not. When the earth Shakes, you Shake, they do not. When the Arrows fall, you walk amoungst them, they do not."
"What the hell are you saying?!"
"Use.. what has been gifted to you. Use it for yourself. Aim it, against Them."
"Use what? The world? Wait, you don't think that small." He pulled at his hair.
"The.. universe?"
"All that is, is mo-"
"More than the plane I walk, I know I know, the multiverse then?"
"Yes."
"You are telling me I need to use the pile of universes themselves.. against them."
And the moment was done.