Space isn't as cold as you would think. Sure, it is cold, but you do not freeze instantly and you can still rub your hands together for warmth. I've been out here for what I think is eighteen to twenty days trying my best to die or right what I did wrong. Something is keeping me from drawing my last breath or digesting that last bit of food.
70,000,000 years later.
About to collide are two planets, in the middle, a man who is still alive. Green flames light up the darkness surrounding the planets. Brilliant colors shoot out from all directions. These are the last two planets in existence and they are about to crush the last living thing in the universe. Measurements like feet and yards shouldn't matter when things of this size are being discussed, but this time they do. Feet away from impact the man in between the two worlds raises his arms to holds the planets at bay. There isn't one look of effort on his face, just a look of shock as his hands feel something that isn't human skin. His elbows give just enough and then he extends his arm the most he can and sends the two planets in opposite directions with so much force that there is no doubting they will never meet again.
He forgot the words long ago yet he still knows the feeling of rebirth. This is not a story of creation or of the end, this is the story of the Architect and how he intends to right all of his wrongs.
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