Voldemort's Flying Circus
Part I: The Improbable World
Chapter 3
The universe slept but did not sleep, lived but did not live, was everything but was nothing. At times when things got dull, which was rather often, the universe would start inventing, and using the fabric of space as a whiteboard, it would plan. Sometimes its plans were sweet and heartwarming. Other times they were utterly mind-boggling. More often than not they were terribly nefarious. And for that one moment of excitement, the universe would revel in the utter confusion, happiness and despair caused by its plans, and boredom was temporarily assuaged. But as always, after what seemed like milliseconds later, the game would end. Anger and despair would rise up and overcome the carefully crafted moment of sheer bliss. Good, in its tireless struggle against evil, would eventually get lucky and triumph. Through the confusion, people argue themselves to a standstill, never moving forward, never moving back. And just like that, the fun would be over. Such is the cyclic nature of life- Society is established. Society collapses, burned into nothingness. Society is born again from the ashes.
Wavering between a state of consciousness and unconsciousness, the universe wrapped itself in its thoughts. It amused itself briefly with a paradox that many humans seemed oblivious to.
Can ominscient God who,
Knows the future find,
The ominpotence to
Change his future mind?
That was a good one, it mused. It decided to implant the masterfully created poem in the subconscious of a certain Karen Ownens in one of the worlds. That world, in particular, needed all the logic it could get.
Then, it felt it. The proverbial "crick in its neck". The throb of pain engulfed its consciousness for a brief nanosecond, and was promptly swatted away like a fly. Strange, it thought, that took longer to suppress than usual. When it was finally in charge of its mental faculties again, it rummaged the worlds for the cause. It didn't take long for the image of Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., or as he was known to that world, Lord Voldemort, to appear.
Put it into a show… Given up… new theatre troupe… prancing Voldie… bloody tights… BAZINGA.
The New Reich… honourifics… will not be condoned.
That was definitely an anomaly. Tom Riddle's existence in that world was defined by his status as a Dark Lord. Suppressing the sense of dread that had started to bubble up from within, the universe continued its search, hoping that the situation was still salvageable.
And then- "Also, killing and torturing will not be allowed, it's bad publicity."
The Universe sneezed.
Oh dear.
A/N: Credit for the wonderful paradox verse used above rightfully goes to Karen Ownens, not the Universe— just in case you were wondering.