“So… all of your worshipers are in… that?” Faun asked quietly.

“What?” the ape man asked as he admired the spreading destruction. “Oh no, not even close.”

His hand swept across the heavens.

“I have trillions of the little bastards out there,” he replied. “I just lost the humans, just a few billion, give or take. Your assholes did a pretty good number thinning them out before the end.”

Faun flinched.

“Oh, sorry,” the hominid said laying his hand on her shoulder, “I meant your universe. I know they weren’t yours yours.”

“Still,” she sighed sadly, “they were my responsibility. I let them happen… and now your humans are lost forever.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” the ape man smiled. “Look closely. What do you see?”

Faun stared carefully at the hell-ball.

“Oop!” the hominid exclaimed, “hold that thought.”

He reached out and seized a moon of the biggest “planet” (Faun had learned a new word!) and held it up like a marble.

“I need to save this one,” the ape-man said as he tucked it into the pocket of his bathrobe. “The humans called it Europa. Pity they never found what was in there.”

“What’s in there?”

“See for yourself,” the ape man smiled holding it up to the “light” (??? Where the heck did that come from?)

“There are big things swimming around in there!” Faun exclaimed with delight!

“Yeah, pretty smart too,” the hominid smiled, “This was such a nice solar system… Oh well…”

Faun looked down and sighed.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” the hominid smiled shaking her gently, “As far as first-universe fuck-ups go, this isn’t all that bad… Only a few billion dead!”

Faun made a pained yelp.

“No, seriously,” the hominid smiled. “Get some of the others talking. You will feel a lot better about yourself.”

“Did… did you make mistakes...”

The ape man snorted.

“Oh yeah!” he exclaimed, “… but mine were slightly different… Maybe I’ll tell you sometime…” he said in a way that made it quite clear that “sometime” was far closer to the heat death of the universe than it was to now.

He coughed and straightened his bathrobe.

“Um… hey… I gotta go and find a home for Europa before it freezes,” he said uncomfortably. “Let’s park you around… here!”

Suddenly Faun was somewhere else, hovering above a big blue “planet” (They orbited the star!… which was gone but they didn’t know it yet.)

“They called this one ‘Neptune’,” the hominid said with a wistful smile. “Just chill and unpack your animals. I’ll be back before Mr. Nasty gets here.”

“Okay,” Faun said as she settled down with the giant sack.

“Oh, I’m expecting a certain entity just about any minute now,” the ape man chuckled, “These sort of things draw her like flies to shit. She looks kinda freaky but she’s really nice. Just tell her that I’m going to save most of the life,” he said in a kooky voice, so she needs to wait before she starts ‘saving’ things.”

The hominid started to look across the stars.

“Ah! Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Be right back! Try to figure out what happened to the humans while I’m gone.”

The hominid disappeared leaving Faun in orbit around Neptune.

She sighed sadly. How could he be taking all of this so lightly? She had messed everything up!

Everyone was dead because of her!

Blinking back tears, she started tenderly retrieving her children, comforting them, and slipping them into herself.

***

In the end, Faun couldn’t even look at the ever expanding devastation. It hurt her heart every time she thought about it.

She just focused on her beloved children.

Suddenly, she wasn’t alone.

“Aaaaaaaa!” she screamed.

Hovering next to her was an unholy mass of eyes, mouths, and tentacles bigger than the huge blue planet she was floating around.

“Hi there!” it said, all of it’s eyes crinkling happily and all of it’s mouths smiling brightly.

“Um… hello...” Faun stammered more than slightly terrified.

“Nice to meecha!” the friendly horror exclaimed. “Haven’t seen you before! Where you from?”

Faun just pointed at the hell ball.

“From there… before...”

“I thought this was […..]’s turf.” she said cheerfully.

Faun blinked, slightly stunned. The definitely not a name but definitely was hit her like a limb to the face.

She was certain that the… nicething hadn’t actually said anything but she knew exactly who she was talking about.

“It is… Well this is his… I think…” Faun stammered trying to find words. “I’m from...”

She pointed again.

All of the horror’s eyes opened wide as she examined the end of everything.

“Ohhhhh...” she said, “Tough break! Did the collision do that?”

“No,” Faun said and then buried her face in her hands. “No… I did!!!” she wailed.

“Hey,” the horror said kindly, “hey, hey, hey,” she said soothingly as she patted her tenderly with a surprisingly soft tentacle. “Don’t be like that… Everything happens sooner or later and if you exist long enough you will make every mistake there is… even if you try not to… so… live and learn, right?”

Faun just sat there silently with her face in her hands.

“Um...” the “horror” said uncertainly. “Hey! I see you have pets!” she said brightly. “I have pets too! Want to see?”

The horror reached inside itself and pulled out an ever changing mass of tendrils and eyes and proudly presented it to Faun who, with wide horrified eyes, tried to back away, successfully distracted from her ever growing sense of guilt.

The horror smiled to itself. Her pets always cheered people up. It felt good to help!

“I call this little beauty an Azatoth!” she said proudly. “It can even live in space, see?”

She released it and it flew around her happily, cuddling up against her tentacles wanting scritches.

“Who’s a good little Azatoth,” she crooned, “You are. Yes. You. Are!”

The writhing mass smiled at Faun. Pets always made everything better!

“Want to pet it?” she asked happily.

The Azatoth, hearing the word ‘pet’ approached Faun happily, it’s central glowing eye smiling excitedly.

As Faun tried to run, she realized that she couldn’t! Her legs were moving but she wasn’t going anywhere!

The titanic beast drew close, it’s impossibly huge eye inches away. Faun, her mental anguish completely forgotten, stood paralyzed with horror, fascination, and dread.

The beast then made a strange musical crooning noise that was oddly pleasant and brushed up against her.

It felt like dandelion puffs!

Faun hesitantly reached out and touched it, causing ripples of delight to cascade across the happy Azatoth.

“Wow!” the pulsating writhing mass exclaimed, “You are good with life!”

“Yeah,” Faun said petting the ever changing shape in front of her, “I guess I am.”

“Life is my thing too!” the mass exclaimed happily, causing the surface of Neptune to roil. ”I just love life!!!” she roared, causing Neptune to form a titanic cometary tail and shift in it’s orbit.

“oops...” the being giggled. “Good thing this system is already screwed, right?”

“Oooo?” the Azatoth asked quizzically.

“Yes, darling,” the cosmic horror said as she petted it, “I see it too. We aren’t going to stay here long. Come to mommy.”

The Azatoth drifted close and “mommy” gently brought it into herself.

“Some entities try to be all careful and clever when they create life,” the horror said cheerfully, “But if you put enough life in something it doesn’t matter! My Azatoths can even live in vacuum! I like to put them near planets that are about to discover faster than light travel so they have something to discover! It makes them so excited when they find one!”

Faun smiled at the cosmic abberation. She couldn’t help it. It’s cheerfulness was infectious and the initial shock over its strange appearance was starting to fade.

There was so much she didn’t know. She guessed she might as well try to get used to it.

Just as she was starting to relax in the presence of this new strange entity, she felt something touch her leg.

“Eeee!” she shrieked as a strange tentacled creature hugged her knee.

“Oh how did he get out?” the thing that should not be huffed. “I swear, these Cthulhus are always getting into mischief! I see you you little scamp!” she giggled poking it with a tentacle causing it to hiss and snap at her.

“Aww,” the madness from beyond creation gushed, “He likes you!”

The Cthulhu climbed into Faun’s lap who started to pet it absently making it issue a bubbling purr.

“These little guys are so friendly!” the writhing chaos smiled, “And they just love mortals! Whenever I find a new planet with sapients on it I like to plop one of these guys in the ocean as a fun little surprise for them to find! It’s very important to keep your worshipers stimulated and engaged y'know.”

“Well that’s nice,” Faun said as she stroked the curious little thing. “So you care about your ‘worshipers’?” she asked. The funny man in the bathrobe didn’t seem to care too much about his.

“Oh, oodles!” the laughing abyss gushed, “Every entity has to have a purpose and I have chosen LIFE and HAPPINESS as mine. I try to spread LIFE and HAPPINESS wherever I go!”

She smiled at Faun who smiled back. She wasn’t really that horrible once you got used to her.

“And some worshipers are so sad when I find them,” the swirling maw sighed. “Not long ago I happened upon a world that was just awful! Everybody was working so hard and most people didn’t have enough of anything no matter how hard they tried so they were sad and others had everything that everyone else should have had and a lot of them were even sadder. And, get this, they were digging up the dead!”

“They were?” Faun asked in horror.

“Yes, they were digging up the dark bones of plants long buried and sucking up the black ichor of animals who died eons before and were burning it in these huge stinky buildings! It was making the whole world sick, so sick it was losing LIFE! This, of course, made them even sadder. It was a sad, sad world that was slowly losing it’s LIFE.”

The cosmic nightmare drooped sadly.

“And what was really sad were the oceans,” she said, “they were losing LIFE so, so quickly…”

The eyes in the darkness then brightened up.

“So I knew just what to do!” she exclaimed, ”LIFE always makes things better! So I just went over one of their oceans and poured LIFE into it! I felt so bad for them that I gave them an extra special double helping of LIFE!”

“What happened?” Faun asked.

“Well,” madness incarnate said happily, “The whole ocean became alive! Boy were they so excited! They all stopped working and ran around celebrating, lighting bonfires, and making happy little squeaking noises. The squeaking is how you know they are happy!… But that’s not the best part!”

“What was the best part?”

“There was so much life in the ocean that it went up into the clouds! Then, it rained down over the land, the plants, the animals, and the little worshipers and they all got extra LIFE too! Now everyone is smiling and nobody has to work anymore. They all just wander around laughing… It feels good to help, y’know.”

The writhing mass smiled millions of smiles at Faun who smiled back.

“Hey, can you show me some of your pets?”

“Sure!”

***

“Ok!” the ape man exclaimed as he popped back into existence, “Europa has a new home and… wow...”

Faun and (...***…) were floating around a rather battered Neptune cuddled close and chatting.

Oh this can’t be good.

The hominid zipped over.

“Oh it’s so cute!” the abomination gushed as Faun was holding a very familiar huge dragon who looked over at the ape man with pleading eyes.

“Hey, there.” the hominid said to the writhing abyss.

“Hi, big guy!” she enthused, “Faun and I were showing each other our pets!”

“...I can see that...” the hominid smirked.

“Help me...” the dragon said telepathically.

“Nah,” the ape man silently replied with a grin. “If you are scared, you have to tell your mommy yourself.”

If looks could kill…

“Hate to disappoint ya,” the ape man said shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe, “But I’m saving most of the life around this little oopsie myself. I kinda like them.”

“Oh well,” the abomination shrugged a million shrugs. “Figured I would drop by and check.”

“Actually,” the hominid grinned as he pointed towards a distant star. “Over that way there are some first class assholes setting up a little galactic empire. They technically aren’t in the area of effect but if somebody wanted some life you are welcome to them. They are starting to annoy me… but just that one species, ok? Leave their subjects alone and… I’ll see to their ‘happiness’ myself, alright? It’s a few hundred billion of the little fuckers and they are right there. I’d hate it if you came all this way for nothing.”

“Thanks, big guy!” the abomination exclaimed, “You’re the best!”

“Faun and I need to scoot over to that star over there,” the ape man smiled. “You’re welcome to hang out a bit if you want. Haven’t seen you in awhile. Would be cool to catch up.”

“I have nothing but time,” the abomination laughed.

“So, Faun,” the ape man said with a gentle smile, “you figure out the puzzle I left?”

“What?” Faun asked in confusion, “Oh! No! Sorry! I completely forgot…”

She sighed and looked downward again.

The hominid gently grasped her chin and guided her gaze to the entirely too close unraveling ball of reality.

“Look closely,” he smiled, “what do you see.”

“I see a lot of light...”

“Behind that,” the ape said with a smile, “you need to start using your senses.”

“Oh!” Faun said as she recoiled. “I don’t like that!”

“Yeah, kind of freaky…” the hominid chuckled. “Might be a bit ‘advanced’ for you this early. Did you see those little white sparks dancing around?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know what they are?”

“Sparks?”

“Souls,” the hominid replied. “Those are the souls of the humans… and the elves, and the dwarves, and the orcs… but the others are getting the ever loving shit beaten out of them by the humans. Those humans might not have consciousness anymore but they still have plenty of hate and rage. Those other guys won’t last as discrete souls much longer… The humans? Well, as I said, they are angry. Not exactly the nicest source of ‘teh’… but it will do. That will keep them together for quite awhile. I’m not sure what form ‘life’ will take in there but when it happens, there are souls waiting.”

“Or life won’t be possible,” the abomination added cheerfully, “and the souls might all clump up and ‘awaken’… who knows...”

“Yeah, that happens too, sometimes,” the ape man shrugged, “In that case we may see them again… in ten to the stupid years. Doesn’t mean much now, but they aren’t ‘lost’, Faun, just… altered. I don’t know if that makes you feel any better but...”

“It does...” Faun replied quietly, “a little...”

“And maybe you can be the one to show them the ropes!”

“Yeah!” the Saturn sized nightmare exclaimed.

“That would be nice,” Faun smiled.

“Ok!” The Great Erectus exclaimed, “Next stop, Proxima Centuri!”

“Hey,” Faun said, “Can you show me how to run?”

“Sure thing, kid.”