[ WP ] A god , whilst contemplating existence , considers their self sacrifice in order to birth a physical universe .

She had done everything. 
 
 She had created garden worlds that teemed with life and beauty. Fostered life from chains of proteins to beings so highly evolved that they could comprehend her existence and perhaps even challenge her power. They were scary times, but the only ones where she felt the least alone 
 She had destroyed worlds across the universe, along with whatever happened to be on them. Some by smashing them like massive eggs with her fists. Others she had peeled like fruit layer by layer until only the core remained. One method she particularly loved was to render a planets core inert by cooling it, and watch as it turned to dead, frozen rock over the centuries. 
 
 She had been many things to many civilisations, appearing as one god or thousands, as a humanoid, a cephalopod, a massive worm, even masses of food or copulating trees. She had been vengeful to some, and loving to others. Her influence on some civilisations had been so slight that they never even thought to worship or even notice her and she watched with amusement and interest as they developed their own myriad pantheons of Gods. But other civilisations she had guided directly, even going so far as to manifest physically over their worlds, literally watching from them the heavens. Never blinking, never leaving. Seeing all. 
 
 She had swam through stars, explored the depths of black holes and gotten drunk on nebulas. 
 And now she was bored. 
 
 She could think of nothing else to do, no new permutation on how to influence the growth of a world, no new way to torment non-believers. Nothing. Even her favourite past-time of watching star birth was becoming more difficult. Light was leaving this universe, her home for countless eons. Entropy was coming for everything. Not even a god could escape. 
 
 As far as she knew she was the only being of similar power she knew off. The universe was so vast that it was entirely possible that there was one like her, perhaps even another her out there doing as she did. But if there was she had never found one. 
 
 She was lonely. And bored. Perhaps she could just leave. Leave and start anew. She could leave the universe, and had done so before. But there was nothing out there. Just an infinite gulf of nothing. She could come and go from the warming bubble of the universe she knew without trouble but out there was nothing. She needed matter of any kind to create, to influence, to do. In the void she had none 
 
 Not unless she made something happen. Before she had used parts of herself to create wonders, using herself as the matter for her creations. Moons from shed skin, oceans from tears. She knew that her universe was simply the aftermath of an explosion. Perhaps if she were to put herself at the centre of such an explosion in the void she could create something new. A universe like the one she inhabited, but one where she was everywhere at once, where all that was and could be had a part of her in it. 
 
 It was a mad idea, almost farcical. But the sad part was that she could think of nothing else worth doing with her time, such as it was. 
 She left her bubble, her home, her universe. And in a flash of light she created from herself a supernova, the greatest there could ever be and scattered herself across the void. 
 
 And felt nothing 

