The Creator of those who used to be known as The Servants warps in, saying CEASE THIS CHILDISH BICKERING. YOU ARE DISTURBING THE BALANCE OF EVERYTHING! IF YOU DO NOT STOP IMMEDIATELY, EVERYTHING YOU KNOW WILL SIMPLY DISAPPEAR, ALONG WITH ALL OF YOU. WHILE IT IS TRUE MY SERVANTS HAVE GOTTEN OUT OF HAND, RAVAGING GALAXIES AT A TIME, I HAD A FEELING SOMETHING LIKE THIS WOULD HAPPEN, AND THAT THEY WOULD BE KEY. FROM WHAT I'VE GATHERED, YOU KNOW OF THEM AS THE "MOIRA." YES, I CREATED THESE, AND NO, NOT FOR THIS PURPOSE. BUT YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, THIS WAS NOT FOR THE WORSE. YOU ALL HAVE LEARNED A LESSON. TOGETHER, YOUR WORRIES CAN BE ABOLISHED, YOUR ENEMIES TURNED TO FRIENDS, AND YOUR FRIENDS TO ENEMIES. BUT THIS, THIS IS PETTY AND RIDICULOUS. SO STOP. IT'S THAT EASY. . And the Moira ships glowed blue, instead of red, and seemingly cried out as if they had been holding their breath for millennia. All of the other ships were hailed by The Servants, who asked the ships, "how may we help you?" And while everyone was busy, The Creator simply vanished, gone to another galaxy, presumably to help the other multiverses suffering from the plague known to us as the Moira.
