A single lone body awakes in a land of pure white the likes of which gives no respite, no rest. Save for the fact that along the borders of this room there is blackness that is the absence of light. On one side of this room there is a mirror perfectly reflecting the austerity of the whites and the dim of the dark borders that line this room. In the mirror it becomes clear that the whites are not austere or absent but rather are a void, a void of absolute nothingness. It's as if material existence itself reflects off this surface. The black borders reflect this whiteness and in some imperceivable manner enhance the void. It is as if the bounds of reality are defined here at these edges of black that line this room padded in white, mirrored on one side.

The only thing in this room, besides the lone body, is a single chair, three steel threads going down the high back, with a bucket seat that looked as uncomfortable as it felt. Sat in this chair was the lone body. In a moment that felt like the Big Bang in this void of action, void of matter, void of existence... that body arose to its feet.

That body pushed away from the ground as a Titan in the beginning of the world pushing away the stars from the earth. With an austerity in the movement that reflected the austerity in the hollowed void of this room that body moved towards the mirror.

With a gaze from black eyes that reflected the void of the blackness of the borders, that body looked into the mirror and spoke, " I know you're watching me." The words themselves seemed to appear out of nowhere. The words hung like a copse of dead trees waiting for the embrace of winter. In this nothingness, it was beautiful.

A memory hung in the air of a lonely country road in a nameless country in a nameless world where the sky rolled on for years and fields looked as if they encompassed the world. Fields of familiar grains, a postcard picture of a world held in stasis. Pollen drifted in the air as chandeliers decorating a sky as blue as the azure mountain lakes that punctuated the far horizon. One could look into this sky and see eternity and feel welcomed.

Suddenly a crack in the sky deep and bloody red. Initially, it seemed far away as if it would never reach this spot, this hill, this road. But as the fragments of time progressed that crack grew bigger, and it drew across the sky a bloody path of fire and hell.

The world and the universe beckoned a cry that shrieked of the murder that was being perpetrated.

The memory was gone.

All that was left was the blank room with the black borders that screamed of the absence and the void that now made up this new reality. And with it the ends of a world... an end of a universe that never was.

Like all thing's, death is not the final word. In this room, a void, an absence, a nothingness and everything, there emerged a crack in the mirror. A crack that had not appeared there before but had made itself manifest as if the will of this room and the universe and entropy and all things brought to happen.

The Observer looked through the crack and what it perceived was a black void that was darker than all of the borders that surrounded this room, that surrounded the existence of this room. And it smiled.