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The firmament, cold and relentless, stretched over his head like a black rainbow. He stood, hammer still clutched and raised, pulsing almost hysterically in one fist. Around him were scattered the ruined bodies of a great many foes and their chosen crafts of destruction. He scoffed bitterly, for no one other than himself, and looked to the sky. The galaxies would continue to expand, the enemies would flow forth from them. He would meet them and dispatch them, as he had always done. When then, would the stinging surprise abate, when he found himself alone again?