Work Text:
The Void doesn’t mind. Black and cold nothingness, its children float among it, idly this or that. Curious and happy, or suffering and screaming, or some other thing.
The cold is beautiful, some say. The dark is terrifying others cry. They suffer, writhe, expend themselves, and return to it. It loves these the most, for they return to it the quickest, satisfying its constant longing to be One. And the ones who don’t, the ones who are happy in the dark, in the cold and who love it back? It loves them too, for they satisfy its ever present desire to be Many.
Sometimes they leave and return to the worlds, to the beginning, to Anu. For a moment or an aeon or some span even greater than that, but the Void doesn’t mind. For they always return. Whether they return to keep it company or to become One again, they always return.