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"The memories we create, the relationships we forge…Friends we make, the family we\'re born into, the children we raise–there\'s nothing more precious. Nothing is worth taking it away–not a single thing in the universe," Sirius continued with tears welling at his eyes at his adamant truth.

Amidst the man\'s immutable words, the diamond-faced being sat there, unmoved before responding, "You\'re correct in that I am unable to understand this. What you\'re attempting to do is attribute emotional factors to creatures that are no more spectacular than specks of dust to me. I feel nothing from it."

The truth from the Creator was unsurprising to Sirius, who clenched his fist as snow-white electricity surged, "--Yeah, I already knew that. A god like you…Nothing can thrive under a heartless tyrant like yourself–I have to fix that." Your next chapter is on m v|l-e\'-NovelBin.net

"I had hoped we could engage peacefully–" the Creator claimed as their many arms shifted and contorted, some exuding energy that shined like stars, producing cosmic hues that glistened. "--However, this is not a surprising outcome, either. Through my observations of you, Sirius Federov, you are one that uses his heart, not his head."

Facing that monstrously imposing entity, it was the first time in a long time that Sirius truly felt like an underdog, facing a wall that may very well be insurmountable. Yet, that only strengthened his step, intensifying his lightning as his heart raced.

["I wasn\'t sure exactly what I was doing anymore. Facing something like this–even with the realm I\'ve reached, defeating it might as well be the same as trying to fell a tree with a leaf. Perhaps I\'ve already accepted there\'s nothing left for me. My world is gone, but maybe…There\'s a chance I can prevent this from happening again–is that my purpose?

Even against the Creator…My soul is pointing me towards this like a beacon. Maybe it\'s right–something greater is watching."]

The very moment Sirius reached his hand forward, sending forth a bolt of lightning that could shatter worlds with its passing graze, the Creator moved a hand at the same moment–

At the unison of electricity and the cosmic pulse, reality contorted as though the air was a puddle of water, rippling from sifting fingers.

"I am the Creator, but you, Sirius…You\'re the opposing side of that coin. The Destroyer; how ironic is it that the hero who used his life to prevent destruction was born for such a thing," the soulless deity spoke between the fractures of power.

A kaleidoscope of colors flickered, engulfing the two clashing forces in the fickle holds of reality. It was a battle that could not be perceived by the naked eye; a merging of powers too fantastical for mortal viewing.

Between the fabric of time and space, the Creator and Destroyer drifted in the torrent of reality. Across spectrums of colors unimaginable, unseen to the human eye, Sirius conjured countless bolts that curved and shot towards the many-armed being.

["Ever since I came out of that black hole, everything has started to feel smaller and smaller. I can feel my emotions dulling, my care for things being suppressed…No, it\'s just that–with this much power, it\'s hard to see straight when I can break everything with a flick of a hand. I can see why this Creator is as cold as it is–but that doesn\'t change anything."]

Part of it all felt meaningless, as entire worlds were conjured and tossed by the Creator as nothing more than plentiful projectiles, shattered just as quickly by the Destroyer\'s hand. When it all rises to such a scale, connecting with things infinitely smaller becomes an arduous task.

It was a painful feeling for the man who spent his life devoting himself to the small parts of life–to the simple acts, to the heroic–feeling that numbness overtaking his heart was a torment.

As he soared through the kaleidoscope between realities, he found one hand of the Creator snapping its fingers before–

"Gh?--"

A planetary mass of dense, snow-white steel manifested around him, isolating him into its core with no room to move.

The voice of the hollow creator echoed through his ears as he found himself stuffed in the mass of astronomically heavy metal, "--This is a method I developed when the Ravagers swam through the cosmos, feasting on stars. They were creations outside of my control–a plague on the universe that fed on all life.

I captured them in these prisons of Astro Steel, shaping it to their serpentine bodies so they could not move."

It was a weight immeasurable to perceive; a density not unlike that of collapsing stars, melded into the unmoving metal world that clasped around the bound man. Sirius breathed out in that dark, claustrophobic space before flexing his body—ZZZT.

Electricity released from his pores, pushing against the unbreakable prison as the element easily dismantled the inorganic material.

Within moments, the star-sized prison of steel was shattered, leaving him meeting eye-to-eye with the hollow gaze of the Creator.

"As I suspected. You truly are the Destroyer. That radiant lightning you wield as though it were another limb–it burns away at the seams of creation, dismantling all it makes contact with," the Creator claimed.

Despite breaking free of the imprisonment, Sirius found himself staring at a boundless array of forces at the whim of the host of creation: burning stars, unstable galaxies, condensed supernovas–an endless vibrance that seemed to have no end.

In the face of it all, a small smile stretched on Sirius\' lips as his heart thumped, not turning away from the sheer chaos that laid ahead–

["In the end, this is what I do best."]

—

A battle that lasted days, grand in scale, yet no more than a pebble dropping in a forest in the vastness of the universe.

"It is a shame, Sirius Federov. This is the first time in my existence that I\'ve felt this emotion–it is truly a sadness that you could not see reason," the Creator lamented.

The grand being was left tattered, missing more than half of its once plentiful limbs as blood oozed from its many wounds with a shade like that of liquid nebula.

Drifting in the bare cosmos, the body of the man lost its vigor as his skin crawled over with stone, withering away rapidly. Even though he wielded unimaginable power capable of utmost calamity, that very strength drained his body of its life force.

It was too much for the one who possessed the constitution of an almighty human—still, a human.

As the life in his body eroded to hollow stone, creeping over his skin, the last bid of lucidity honed in his eyes.

For just that brief moment, sparks trickled through his body, connecting from cell-to-cell with perhaps not a lot of power, but just enough. His stone-turned fingers twitched, even as it seemed impossible with the state his body was in.

["...If I can\'t rid humanity of a Creator like this, at the very least…I can try and change it."]

Drifting in the bare cosmos as the wounded entity watched, the resolve that was born in the fading heart of Sirius was a long shot, though the only choice he had. It was only placed on the fact that the Creator displayed a lack of emotion or experience with it–a blank canvas, one perhaps able to be painted.

Into his only hand left, Sirius spurred strands of radiant electricity, using every ounce left in his transient body to up the voltage as it shined through the dark space. Everything was placed into that lightning–the centuries of memories and experiences he lived and experienced, the emotions of the souls with him.

Placing his entire being into the element held in the palm of his hand, the entirety of his body was solved to stone as he pointed his hand out, aiming the lightning right for the Creator–

["There is a great difference in observing than experiencing it yourself…When you\'re hit by this bolt, infused with countless memories…joy to sorrow…You will experience it as if they were your own memories."]

It was difficult to even remain conscious as he placed his essence into that final gathering of lightning, keeping his eyes open as arduous as it was before he sent it forth. The bolt pierced through the cosmos, striking the unprepared Creator directly in the chest.

["I\'ve lived long enough. I just wish…I had the chance to live a normal life, y\'know? A simple one, with a wife…We might squabble sometimes, she might get upset with me for forgetting chores, but we\'d always make up. Of course, I\'d like some children…one, or two? At least a girl and a boy. I\'d probably be way too overprotective of a father, but there\'s nothing wrong with that.

A normal life, yeah…It sure would\'ve been nice to experience that. But, I don\'t regret it."]

In those moments that scribed the finale of the life of the man who gave everything for others, an entire life flashed before his eyes, not his own, but one that could\'ve been, a "what-if."