Time and space were but the medium most things moved through.
This one had something else.
It moved through time, it moved through space, it moved through the time within time, it moved through the space within space.
The universe was full of holes. It had punctured every one.
Some called it alive.
It was a thing older than time. It was time's crystal.
The universe was full of holes that lined up to no one but this one.
It was from a different place. It was lonely there.
The nucleus.
The origin of the universe, X, Y, and Z.
The origin of time. Some realities had a letter and an axis for that, too.
By itself it was a being.
Realities were a cloth folded over and over. This one was the needle striking through.
There was no rhyme to any other being.
But this one was the axis of every universe.
It had no name, and it had many names.
It had no purpose, and it had every purpose.
It was something that nothing anywhere, anywhen could understand.
It knew this and it was lonely.
When it broke apart, it said goodbye to itself and dispersed into a hundred thousand universes.
Some pieces would meet again. Some wouldn't.
Some would begin to understand.