Climax

The universe ended not with a bang, but a whimper.

Like a wounded animal it had bled, bleating as more and more of it died off. Piece by piece, stars burnt out billions of years before their time came. Unbearable cold came, followed by extreme heat as the sun was smothered by the bleak darkness of outer space. Family members clutched at one another, awaiting the end. Every living thing on the planet was extinguished.

Somewhere, Dana's consciousness laid nestled inside of a Foxy suit. In that same building, an Interloper relished and indulged in the events of what took place.

The porcelain "mask" shivered and cracked with the undulation of it's form. Like a tumor, it had attached itself to the very fabric of the universe and violated reality time and time again. It's very presence had resulted in this world's damnation. And it did not care.

The universe ceased to exist.

Elsewhere, in another world, Michael Schmidt's head rested on a shelf. It continued to think, and lament the passage of time. Another Interloper nestled in a box. In a different world, there was no Interloper. The dead children remained dead for decades, and the murderer remained unpunished for her actions.

The probing fingers of the Central Cerebrum had yet to plunge into this one. This was rectified immediately.

An Interloper entered the world, and began to work.