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Pan Post 101 explores the end of the Multiverse after every universe has been destroyed and all that is left is the husk of a hyper-astral wyrd, where only the most hardy have survived. The lord of this existence is the Iron Voice who has found the Ichron Cube and speaks with it in hopes of extending the Multiverse. The Cube understands and uses the last of the netherlight from the netherstar, plunging the end of the Multiverse. The Ichron has travelled back in time where it helps a man gain rank and join the Pan-Cosmic Command. The Ichron is then passed through the hands of several Gul Moffs, the highest rank of the Pan-Cosmic Command, until it eventually reveals itself to the council of Gul Moffs who welcome the Ichron to join their number and it vows to work towards preserving the Multiverse.

Post

End of the Multiverse

The Deep Void sparkles with islands of light and reality and existence. Sometimes the islands are continents with small ponds of void; other times there are tiny dots in vast oceans of nothingness. Sometimes islands die and are replaced with void; other times they are reborn into new islands.

Thus do the universes live out their cycles in the Deep Void.

But as meta-time marches on, the lights slowly dim and wink out. Entropy - or whatever you wish to name whatever force causes the end of all things - inexorably wears everything down. Fewer universes are born; more die.

Even the hyper-astral wyrds are overtaken, until nothing remains but their desiccated multidimensional husks, until finally the husks disintegrate into nothingness as well.

And finally, when no titans remain to forge existences and no Voices call forth realities into being, there is almost literally nothing left in the Deep Void, after an infinity of meta-eons. Only one tiny island remains - not even a universe, but a single dim red sun.

The star does not produce energy, nor does it emit light. It emits cold netherlight, and burns its nethergetic core of cold energy.

A planet orbits this red dwarf. It is not truly a planet, but all that remains of a long-dead hyper-astral wyrd, a corpse the size of multiple universes withered away to the size of a pockmarked moon of gray dust and ash.

Only the strangest and most chthonic of creatures could still subsist in this dead world, beings whose nature is terrible and unknowable. But one rules them all, the king of the last survivors of the multiverse.

Creature #1: Hiss!

Creature #2: Hississs!

There are no random audience members left to complain of the lack of English translation. The creatures congregate around a black throne that glints in the cold red netherlight. Before the throne is a chipped black obelisk.

In the throne sits an odd chthon. It is encased completely in metal, dark gray ironlike metal that is freezing to the touch, sculpted around the chthonic king's body. Said body appears humanoid, albeit very rotund and 10 feet tall from three-clawed feet to shoulders.

From its metal-covered shoulders springs an incredibly long metal-covered neck, just as long as the main body is tall, and at the end of the neck is a humanoid head, sheathed in the same dark gray metal. The face is blank, there are no openings for mouth or nose or eyes, assuming this chthonic king, the Iron Voice, even has those.

Iron Voice: --Bring forth the treasure--

Creature #1: Hissssss!

A tentacle produces a cube - twice the size of a human fist, etched with eldritch markings, and humming lightly - and it floats over to the Iron Voice.

Iron Voice: --Do you know what you are, treasure--

Cube: I.am.the.Ichron.

Iron Voice: --Sentient repository of all knowledge ever collected in the multiverse that is now dead--

Ichron Cube: Almost.dead.

Iron Voice: --Tell me, Ichron, how many millennia this red nethersun has existed--

Ichron Cube: Fifteen.million.millennia.

Iron Voice: --And how long has this red nethersun been fifteen million millennia old--

Ichron Cube: An.infinity...Time.is.dead.

Iron Voice: --How long until our dying demi-world too passes--

Ichron Cube: Forever.and.no.time.at.all.

Iron Voice: --And in all your collected knowledge, you know of no way to sustain us--

Ichron Cube: I.know.that.you.know.the.answer.

Iron Voice: --So there is a mind to you after all, and not merely a voice regurgitating memory--

Ichron Cube: I.know.also.what.you.wish.me.to.do.

Iron Voice: --Then do it. Extend the multiverse's life, as you must. Let it live forever, if you can--

Ichron Cube: Activate.the.last.hedron.

The Iron Voice looks at the chipped obelisk, and it gleams dully in the red netherlight, drawing from the cold energy, bent to the will of the chthonic king. The surface of the obelisk begins scrolling green glyphs, but the images are staticky and faint. Whatever purpose the hedron was originally built for is beyond its capability now - but it will suffice for what the Iron Voice intends.

Iron Voice: --Go--

A light emits from the half-ruined hedron, and the red sun dims, its nethergy being drained to power its final task. The Ichron Cube is bathed in the light, and it vanishes. The light of the hedron goes out, and then so does the red sun.

Darkness and void overtakes the last world of the multiverse, and the end finally comes.

-----

The multiverse is young. Life and reality fill the Deep Void as the titans rejoice in forging new existences throughout the black nothingness.

In an alien universe, on an alien planet, an alien lieutenant in a transgalactic military stumbles out of a bar to see a shooting star overhead. In a moment of drunken whimsy, he follows its path, and at the end, in an alleyway between bunkers, he finds a glowing cube, the weird etchings upon its surfaces glowing invitingly.

Drunken Alien Lieutenant: Whoa man, this is some ****.

He hesitantly prods it with a reptilian finger, wondering if it will be hot. He jerks his hand away - it was incredibly cold to the touch! He prods it again, and this time the cube feels slightly less cold. He picks it up gingerly, and it gradually warms to a normal temperature. He can practically feel the unnatural cold melting off it in wisps of freezing steam.

Drunken Alien Lieutenant: Wonder if I can pawn this for a few gold.

Ichron Cube: You.could.trade.me.for.a.few.gold.or.keep.me.for.a .lifetime.of.greatness.

The alien lieutenant nearly drops the cube.

Drunken Alien Lieutenant: What are you?

Ichron Cube: I.am.the.Ichron...A.living.repository.of.knowledge ...Use.me.and.you.shall.rise.high.

And the alien lieutenant does so. With the Ichron's wealth of knowledge and its incredible intellect, the alien lieutenant rises swiftly in rank as he achieves amazing things with the Ichron's help. Shortly after his promotion to Colonel First Class, he is reassigned, to the task force that his transgalactic kingdom contributes towards the Pan Cosmic Command.

The PCC is a joint organization backed and funded by thousands of transgalactic and even multiversal powers. Its mandate is to protect and preserve the multiverse and its citizens. It has unlimited power to acquire resources in any manner it chooses and to deploy them in any manner it sees fit.

The alien colonel serves with distinction in the PCC, with the Ichron's help, rising to the rank of Brigadier General in the PCC military, before at last dying of old age.

Other officers of the PCC discover the Ichron, and it passes through a series of hands over millennia, its possessors always achieving distinction in the ranks of the PCC.

The last alien officer to possess the Ichron is named a Gul Moff - the very top rank of the Pan Cosmic Command, with unlimited authority over all its forces and resources. There are several Gul Moffs, though their exact number is kept secret.

When the Gul Moff who possesses the Ichron dies, the sentient cube makes it move.

Ichron: Gul.Moffs...I.am.the.power.behind.your.deceased.co lleague.

It is speaking through a holo-link from its deceased possessor's office to the council of other Gul Moffs, whose images are scrambled so their identities remain unknown. The Ichron does not hide its appearance, and proves its words and its worth, after investigation from the Gul Moffs.

Gul Moff Pfaxarxis: Ichron, it is with the support of my fellows that I acclaim you the newest addition to our number. As Gul Moff, you will work with us just as you did with your predecessor, except that now you will not be hiding behind him.

Gul Moff Ichron: Then.let.us.continue.our.work.to.preserve.the.mult iverse...Forever.

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