Nox was tired.
To fill the multiverse with splendors and marvels he drove himself thin, stretched his soul outward so it might wrap around the entirety of time and space three times over.
But he was terribly, terribly fatigued. It took a lot to turn a cold, barren landscape into one that was warm, sprawling, and bountiful.
Nox had burdened himself so terribly that he spent over a century wandering aimlessly. Though he himself had a body as dark as obsidian, Nox would light each corner of the universe with stars. Upon barren land, he would build civilizations and erect all kinds of superb marvels.
Though he may have been a god of Creation, Nox was never a deity that partook any joy in such an act. In fact, despite being known as the Creator, it could be said that he resented such a thing and beheld no love for the things he created. And yet the Cosmic Snake would slave away, centuries upon centuries upon millenniums at a time.
