He was the rebel. He would not die!
Devil Star had five million more years of peace, of caniptious play. And then....
He was alone, and cradling his loneliness, atop a galaxy shaped like a masterfully blown, brimming wine-glass, with the bubbles of stars clouding about its rim. The moment of his curse had come, for a vast cunning had grown in him. He would lie here, shielded by a giant star, and he would wait.
The waiting was not long. Came the beat of a life force. He felt himself tremble. Deep inside something was whispering that he should forget, turn back—play—skim along the surface of life as did Moon Flame and the other energy children. Accept destiny!
Destiny! The cunning shift and quiver of sub-atomic particles that began when the universe began.
He would not.
The life force pressed in, strengthened. And with a thread of vision he saw a matured green light, her central core burning with an hypnotic, frightening radiance.
Devil Star surged up closer to the star that shielded him, for now he sensed the swirl and pulse of another life. With a thinned ray of sight, he beheld the purple light ripping through space toward the deadly source of the vibration that drew him.
For one chaotic moment, Devil Star's purpose was as nothing. He knew this energy creature.