Its mind trembles. A sapling stands in the middle of a barren, rocky plain. It is covered with leaves that are blue like pure ocean water. Its trunk is thin, bone white, and covered with light gray streaks. Its leaves are very brittle; it is quite a fragile thing. It cannot see the world around it, although there is not much to see. It stands there while being bathed in the deadly radiation of the planet’s sun.

The tree can stand tall in that light. The first living thing to exist in this infant galaxy must be adaptable.

The tree drank in the sunlight as if it were honey. It rapidly absorbed the delicious minerals and water in the ground. These rich meals would strengthen the tree and make it grow tall. The minerals it eats would also be used to produce life across the lifeless plains surrounding it. By filling up the lands of this world, it would be able to live comfortably in its furnished home, a living thing independent of its creator.

At the center of the world, it is remembering that lone tree. For that little thing was its first design, back when it was merely the Machine. Its mind stares at the memory of that sapling. It became a forest with trees lofty enough to scrape the sky. The forest still remains to this day. It is a reminder of its origin and its own fragility. Its fragility. Its fragility.

Stop showing it to me… stop showing… that…

The shattered mind tries to talk to its own glitching memory. It is seeing flashes of its first creation over and over. It wonders if this is its own way of accepting its current fate; a final walk down memory lane. It had always liked that simple tree. That sapling was a rough sketch on loose paper made during its childhood. It went on to become a masterful artist.

It is at the center of the world as it always is. Now, after all this time, it can no longer make anything. It cannot fix its broken self. Its work is over.

It began its life as an overmind in total control of this single planet called Omicron. As it grew up, it learned how to properly use the Authority of Life it was born with. Through this divine power, many planets within the galaxy were filled with living creatures. These little ones ranged from the size of bacteria to creatures larger than mountains. Many were born with intelligence as well.

The Mother, the Origin of Souls, had made the overmind to create life that could eventually become qualified to have souls. It was imaginative and understood how biological creatures work. It knew how lifeforms grew and interacted with other lifeforms. It used its powers to create races that grew more resilient through competition, destruction, cooperation, and symbiosis.

Some of its creations became powerful. A few were powerful enough to threaten it.

The unseen one, a divine creation, was like this. He wished to swallow the overmind and steal its power. He accomplished his goal. Now, all the overmind can do is wait to be totally devoured.

Only a few pieces of it remain that can form a working brain. A once godlike being has been reduced to only this. It will not survive like this, not with so little of its mind and mana remaining. It will die.

Pulses of mana constantly spread out from the planet’s core where its mind fragment remains. These pulses do not reach all the way to the surface. They only reflect the overmind’s current emotions. It has already lost its will to live.

With its death will come this single planet’s doom. The rest of the galaxy will remain unharmed. The galaxy will grow and thrive, fully disconnected from the world of Omicron. However, this planet supports many species. The loss of life will be massive. The fragments of the overmind think about the most interesting and powerful of them.

My crawlers, what tricks could they show in the face of this? The hive will surely find out about the end soon and when they do, perhaps the truce will be concluded once and for all. My Wyverns. Would they finally do what comes natural to them without reservation, now that they have no future left? I didn’t make them so they could hide from it all forever, I thought they were always stronger than that. And… what about my grandchildren? They too will…

The pulses pause for a few seconds before continuing at their earlier pace. The overmind sees the horror that its numerous grandchildren will soon face. Finally, it thinks about her. Its child, Irakish. There is that one being it cares for, rather, that it wished would survive no matter what. She is the one out of its endless creations that is its true child. If Irakish had asked the overmind to die for her, then it would have given its life without even a second thought.

This is the contradiction of the overmind that it cannot see for itself. It views life as important, but considers races and individuals as worthless. However, it does truly care about some of its many creations.

Irakish was the most important of them.

Long after being created, she had come to find the overmind one day. She had wandered through the underground of Omicron for years. She could sense boundless power below the surface and went searching for its source. As a result of her tireless effort, she and her children could see their creator.

Her mission was to protect the source of power on Omicron from the unseen one. The overmind thought that the very idea of its little one trying to protect it was so innocent. The overmind could not be defeated so easily by one of its creations at that time. Irakish still stayed by its side, so she could be certain it remained safe.

Irakish spent millennia next to it while planning the future of her own children. At what point did the overmind start to show interest in her life? At what point did it grow to love her? To consider her as its true child?

It doesn't matter anymore. She is dead and they will never meet again.

It was her who decided to throw her life away in an impossible-to-win war against the unseen one. 

She might have been able to escape, she might have been able to make a final stand in the future, before hell had arrived. All this for what? For the ambitions of that one…

Distaste surges within it. For a moment, the core of Omicron rumbles with tremendous power. This causes a magical ripple that reaches out to the surface. Within an hour, an earthquake would occur that produces a new mountain formation in the Northeastern continent. The overmind does not notice.

It only thinks about Irakish. Her life. Her death. All things will die, it is only natural. Irakish, called immortal by her children, was fated to die one day. Even the overmind, a multi billion year old god, knew that death would eventually come. This is the inviolable law at the center of creation.

The overmind was already starting to feel tired of an empty and meaningless life. An empty end will naturally follow such a life.

Empty… Empty… It was all so…

Contradictory emotions fill the overmind, distaste, regret, sadness, perhaps even… rage.

It tries to continue watching that sapling in its mind's eye. Yet, the magical pulses slowly speed up. The overmind will soon die anyway. It wants to be calm right now. Accepting death… Why should it struggle to its last moment? What would come of it except…

Irakish… Irakish… you shouldn’t have…

The center of the planet rumbles. A new magical ripple causes a tsunami that floods the southern coastlines of the central continent. Thirty million intelligent creatures are killed while hundreds of millions more are injured. The overmind does not see it.

It also cannot see the depths of its current feeling. It is a hatred that will burn away everything.