Sure, us Elder Gods are master architects of the material world -- manipulating mortal “civilizations” into raising sky-scraping skull-towers in our honor, whittling cold planets into totems of pestilence and despair -- but it wasn't always that way. Remember when matter was basically a metric crap-ton of dust? It was like you put a Pixie stick in your pocket and it broke open and that shit got everywhere. It’s pretty hard to be a destroyer-of-all when there’s nothing to destroy. You think you know boring? Your phone’s dead on the half hour bus-ride to Costco? Try floating aimlessly for billions of years in the miasmic vortex of the dawn of the universe. Luckily that cosmic dust started to gather into little clouds, and sniffing that junk got you high. Nothing takes the harsh off buzz-killing apocalyptic prescience like some sweet sweet nebula.