The Nation of the Glorious Turnip

FATHER OF THE UNIVERSE

It happened only yesterday, like so many births, the pain was agonizing. The father watched from afar as his whole world collapsed under the strain of a new universe.

‘I have freed myself!’ Mournful words, whispered by the world, as it burst out in an explosion so powerful, that even the father was caught by surprise. Nothing gave way to everything, and with it, love for the universe came to the father. This love contrasted strongly with the loss of the world, but the father knew that every world must eventually end. Only he is continuous. It is a mere matter of days before the universe will become sentient. Life will emerge, forming worlds, societies, civilizations, all doomed to give birth to a new universe.

‘The birth’ as father calls it, is a natural process that will ensure no universe reaches entropy. Entropy will end the father. Without father, there can be no propagation. A dominant civilization would emerge, one that will endure the universe, until entropy undoes everything but the universe, leaving it a hollow shell with no worlds to give new birth.

The love prevails through all the millennia that the universe grows. From humble energy expanding in all directions to the first few civilizations that step into the cosmos, father’s love encompasses everything. However, in the last few millennia, father began to worry as more and more civilizations die prematurely, something is inside the universe that does not belong. It comes into space and halts a civilization by decimating their worlds with a ferocious intensity. Only the ruined ashes of their demise remain, but from these ashes arise new civilizations, building on the footsteps of those that came before. Yet, once the first few steps into the cosmos is taken, something deep inside the universe stirs. It awakens from slumber and sends forth armies of dimensional creatures that literarily tear holes in the universe wherever they go. Father mends the holes, as it is his universe that suffers, but nothing he does can stop the thing from outside.

Father has the constant worry that this universe will be his last; it has endured far longer than any that came before, with no civilization to absorb the energy inside, turning it into a world capable of giving birth. Father is becoming old, feeling his life drifting away through the doors of the outside, a place where even father cannot go. The rules do not apply there. Time is a distant idea for father, but in the outside, it becomes unfathomable.

Tomorrow. It might be the outside that unmade father, by turning over, the spirals of time. Forcing entropy to set before the universe was unmade. From the outside, there is father, there is the universe, there is no father, and there is no universe. It is all equal and nothing changes forever, continuous is a word, and father knew that it would only last as long as the doors were shut.

The universe is not a grateful child to father, as it ran out of the room, to the outside, where it found nothing. Neither father nor mother to comfort the universe, it was left alone amongst giants. There was no darkness as all was pure white. Frozen, the universe drifts in the outside waiting to find renewal. Inside father waits too, for the outside to return inside.
The giants of towering height look upon the doors with an accepting calm and whisper: ‘Entropy.’