Nulls

It was Nulls' perdition after committing all of the ten great sins, to be a restless fugitive forever wandering the cosmos. The worlds would reject him, regurgitate him to the next one, until every world returned to dust and the last light of creation dimmed. A consciousness forged in a dead reality awakens to be the subject of flesh. The faces of those he once loved have crumbled into ash that he cannot even remember scattering. He knows only that he was greater once, that the power he now wields is a whisper of a scream that once shattered realities. The worlds change around him. He is thrown from one to the next, a restless wanderer bound to walk until the universe collapses and the void forgets his name. Each reality has its own world, horor and its own desperate civilizations clawing toward the light. He would watches them rise and fall. Partake in their chaos whenever he saw fit. There are things in this creation that hunger the way his species hungered. Civilizations that consume and consume and cannot stop. He has seen them before, everytime he ended them before they could caused any damage. He will do it again, pruning the branches of reality before they can choke out the light. But the worlds change faster than he can track. The memory of his past reemerges in fragments, flood of forgotten sins that surfaces from the depths of his consciousness. He would travel from world to world, reverse engineering a piece of his old technology with his knowledge and memory, hoping that one day he would be able to rebuild the empire that was once his. How many deaths for how many years? How much of himself did he have to lose just to finally save everyone else? Ask him how many deaths it will take, and he'll say it doesn't matter. His own. Countless others. If the salvation of all creation hangs in the balance, the arithmetic is a truth to be understood.