In the endless void, for light years upon light years, the only light is a little pinprick... coming from a luminous ball of burning hydrogen and helium. The orange tyrant brutally slugs its spherical slaves around itself, twirling and twisting them in the infinite vacuum. Round and round they go, locked together in their cycle for millions and billions of years. Slowly, the tyrant swirls with power, emitting radiation to toast his charges.
Elsewhere in the universe, stellar wonders occur. Vast collections of stars form from naught but dust. Black holes jealously devour matter from all sides. Pulsars spin wildly. Binary systems gracefully dance together. The fabric of space-time stretches and fluxes under the weight of events unfolding on its ever-expanding plane.
Much time passes. The tyrant persists as cross-stellar travelers pass through, showering his realm with ice and precious metals. Bodies collide, planets form and reform. Some of the tyrant’s subjects slowly migrate about, and some grow big enough in speed and size for ejection, launched forcefully away into the beyond. They quickly freeze over and wander eternally in unending darkness.
One of the tyrant’s vassals grows hairy and green. (Thanks to the heat and its water.) Civilizations rise across its landscape, but, in a sudden burst of self-inflicted flame, the planet dies and becomes barren and lifeless, likes its neighbors. It lasted for only a brief moment. Throughout the universe, other little rocks also become hairy and green with life, and they will do great things.
Galaxies will cross, awe-inspiring inventions constructed, great wars fought, stars tamed, but not for this one. After this little incident, the ceaseless rotations and revolutions of the tyrant and his subjects continue on as normal, uninterrupted for a long time.
Subtly at first, but then by leaps and bounds, the tyrant swells to an enormous size, even consuming some of his nearest thralls in his expansive inferno. But growth comes with a price, and the giant begins to cool and then contract once more. The monster, once so powerful and confident, starts running out of fuel. He burns and roars against the dying of his own light until finally, his time has come.
The tyrant collapses in on himself with a deafening bellow, if anyone existed to hear it. What little substance of him remains explodes in a brilliant final burst of blinding red and yellow light, taking his remaining vassals with him. Then naught exists but a trail of debris, broken over the hearth of once bright opportunity. However, it still swirls pensively in hopes one day, it may collect and become a new light in the dark.
