Prolouge

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You would think that being alone for ten eons would make a person lonely. And yes, being isolated for that long would drive any person to insanity. But what must be remembered is that the Wealthy One is not a person, at least not as we know. He is a creature, one whose name is only spoken in awed fear and desperate whispers.

He was not always so alone. Once, long ago, he traveled the universe, spreading fear throughout all the galaxies. He left no person without his name in their hearts to remember forever. The Wealthy One. He had another name, but that one was never spoken aloud, too powerful to rest on any mortals tongue. The Wealthy One liked it this way, and reigned for as long as anyone could remember. So long in fact that there is no recorded History of a time before his rule.

The Wealthy One was known not only for his terrible power, but also his riches. So great was his treasure that no one could ever fathom to count it, no single kingdom could ever contain it. Every man from galaxies across the universe desired it, even a small fraction. But none dared to steal from the Wealthy One. He who did would claim a fate so devastating he would curse his own existence in the cosmos.

But there came a day when one was so overcome by greed that he forgot the threat of the Wealthy Ones power. This man was a Conqueror, a ruler over a large planet, praised by all. He was the most powerful person he knew, and when he realized just how much power he had, he decided he could challenge the Wealthy One himself. So he packed up his things and set out on a quest for the creature, confident that he could bring the beast down, become the ruler of the universe himself, and gain all the riches that the Wealthy One had.

The Conqueror had been wrong. When he confronted the Wealthy One, he stopped in an instant, not even given enough time to see the creature in its entirety. He ran back to his kingdom, stripped of all courage he had known. He was not a man any longer, but a shell of one, destroyed by the sight of such purity of terrible power.

But the battle was not through yet, if it could even be called that. The Conquerors people, outraged by the destruction of their beloved leader, soon forgot their fear and decided to go against the Wealthy One in a great army. So it happened that the whole planet traveled to the Wealthy Ones home. The beast itself was shocked at the sheer number of people that came to avenge the one that had come to steal his treasure just a few days prior. This had never happened before, and he didnt know what to do but to destroy them all. He did so fairly easily, and by the time the sun set on his home an entire planet kingdom was gone, its legacy finished. The Wealthy One was distressed that people were starting to question his power, but let the thought go from his mind. Surely word would spread throughout the galaxies the events of that day, and no one would ever dare to repeat an act like that again.

But he was wrong. The next day, the neighboring planet kingdoms of the one he had destroyed appeared at his door, bent on taking revenge. The Wealthy One destroyed them as well, but it took him three days to do so, because there were three planet kingdoms that had come that day instead of just one. At the end of the three days, when those planet kingdoms were gone from the universe, he lay down on his throne and pondered the events. He was tired, a feeling that he had never experienced before. But now he could rest. Surely no one else could possibly question his power now that he had destroyed four total planet kingdoms.

But he was wrong again. Word spread throughout all the galaxies of the great battle, and people now knew that the Wealthy One was growing tired. A new hope such as never before sparked in the hearts of all people. Armies from all corners of the universe traveled to the Wealthy Ones home, each with the intention of destroying him and taking his treasure back to their own kingdoms. Greed that burned with a passion like fire kindled a war that lasted for countless years. The Wealthy One was fighting so many kingdoms that it became known as the Battle of Infinite Fronts.

The Wealthy One was losing. He knew this. And it terrified him. He knew he could not keep fighting forever. Though he was the most powerful being in the universe, these kingdoms were learning his weaknesses day by day. Soon they would find a way to defeat him. He didnt know what else to do, so in the night, he fled. He fled from the only world he had ever known, to the far reaches of the universe where no one had ever ventured. And he was never seen again.

In the morning, when the armies discovered that their enemy who had ruled for so long was gone, they rejoiced. They sang and danced and feasted, reveling in the fact that the treasure was theirs. But when they went searching for the Wealthy Ones treasure, they found that it was gone. As quickly as they had embraced over their victory they turned on one another, each accusing the others that they had taken the treasure for themselves. Rifts formed, but no war ensued, because they soon realized that no one had it. The Wealthy Ones treasure trove of unfathomable riches was gone.

But such things lost their meaning after many years. After a while, what was once fresh news became history, and history became legend, legend became superstition, superstition became myth. It seems inconceivable that such a great part of the universes story could become nothing more than a childs fairy tale. But after ten billion years, it is hard to believe in something so old and detached from the new generation.

But the Wealthy One still lives. He hides from all, having learned his lesson of the greed of men. He fell asleep some time ago though. You certainly cannot blame him, for it is hard to stay awake when you are alone for ten eons.

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