#being alive for 4.201 cycles takes a major toll on your life

[magicalbuffalotransformerman]

[And now... a brief break for the Titan of Time himself.]

[The TYRANT is seated on an Antarctican cliff, gazing off into the horizon. He is reminiscing about and analyzing his past, second by second. He rubs his face, first trying to remember the Singulars. He can't remember their names or their faces or genders. He hasn't even been able to meet them. It's been too long. As far as the TYRANT knows, there is no more Netherbulia, either. It hasn't come back from whatever chaotic event happened to it, if anything even did happen to it. Maybe the Universe is too large to try to go hunt it down. Maybe the TYRANT hasn't tried to find it. The TYRANT then remembers his first ever Earthly pet... Sweepy I. Was she a Siamese or a Tabby? Another detail lost to time. Died to a grenade. His reflexes weren't the best back then, and neither was his aim. Then, Sweepy II. III. IV, all the way through to MMMCMXCIXCMXCIX (3,999,999 in roman numerals) and beyond. So many cats, and for what? More death? What a game plan [/s]. So... so many cats lost to so many factors of life. Robbers. Time. Fire, space and water. Death is but a plague on the TYRANT's life. This mood of his is weighing down his thoughts. He tries his hardest now, to remember his favorite restaurant back in his hometown. The food. The waitress that he used to flirt with. The path he used to take to get there from his home and back. It's all coming up blanks. He tries to remember the landscapes around there. The star that Netherbulia used to orbit. What was its name? How many moons did Netherbulia have? All of this... locked nostalgia from the past. The TYRANT is plagued by it. If only he could go back. Home.]

[He hasn't felt this terrible since half a thousand cycles ago.]