Once upon a time, there was time.
Scientists like to think that the universe came with a beginning. They argue about the mode of its creation and what had existed before. They argue about the materialization of time — did it come into existence after the creation of the universe? Is it even real? They grasp their theories of logic and attempt to prove theologically what they cannot prove physically.
No, time is both tangible and real, and the universe was never created. To imply that it was created would be to imply that there was a before. But, there is no before. There is no beginning.
There is only an infinite amount of afters.
After an infinite number of events of varying importance, a tiny asteroid emerges from the shadows of a nameless planet. At a nameless speed faster than that of any spaceship ever created, it uncloaks itself of darkness. Light illuminates its surface, revealing a minuscule, shining red dot of the exact same hue of the large, dull and red star glaring down at the asteroid from the other side of the nameless planet.
Upon closer inspection, one would realize that the red dot is neither red nor a dot of any sort, but a curled-up dragon of perfectly calibrated gears and weights, with an outermost panel of a brilliant, mirror-like material. If the vacuum of space could transmit sound, one would hear a faint ticking from the belly of the dragon, more consistent and dependable than any mode of telling time.
The dragon stirs, uncoiling from its circular resting position. The quota of six hundred and fourteen swings of its internal pendulum has been reached; the dragon has acquired enough solar energy for it to carry out its duty.
The dragon's ritual begins with five unfaltering laps around the perimeter of its home asteroid. As it walks, its previously colorless scales gradually tint a shade of deceptively cool blue as they heat up in preparation for the next step. When the dragon reaches its desired color of a rich, royal, gas-giant blue after approximately thirty-eight swings of the pendulum later, it pauses. Not a mechanicalized freeze, but a graceful stop, much like a performing acrobat waiting to ensure the attentiveness of the audience. Then, without warning, its jaw falls open and a stream of deep blue fire bursts from deep within, igniting the asteroid's tiny atmosphere. By the time the dragon closes its mouth, the asteroid is completely surrounded by hazy, royal blue.
The dragon's gait is perfectly synchronized with the space rock it occupies to the smallest detail. Without hesitation or imbalance, it steps into dips, totters away from the dangerously sloped edges, and walks around large protrusions. It's a perfectly synchronized dance that gets carried out every six hundred and fourteen swings of the dragon's internal pendulum, propelled into action by a clockwork being incapable of making mistakes. The dragon is nothing but an elaborate piece of clockwork craftsmanship, entirely dictated by its pendulum.
If one were to tear their eyes away from the dragon, one would realize that where the dragon had once lain, there is a large, jagged opening, marring the otherwise unbroken asteroid like a scar. If one were also particularly eagle-eyed, one would note that the fire isn't the only source of light on this tiny, little rock. Out of this jagged scar of a crack, blue light of a lighter hue is also being omitted.
However, unlike the flickering flames, this time, the source would be something far more ethereal and far less substantial. The orb contained something that existed without beginning in its purest form. The effects of the past, the fleetingness of the present, and the certainty of the future would all disappear, not only leaving the entirety of the universe in limbo, but causing the universe to disappear entirely if the orb was ever broken.
In its last, choreographed act, the dragon walks gracefully back to its spot before the ritual and waltzes around the crack three times, gracefully bobbing lower and lower before it curls within itself. The dragon's glittering ruby-like eyes lose all their color, spent.
It will take the internal pendulum seventeen swings before they have enough energy to regain their color, five hundred and seventy-two more swings before the fiery atmosphere burns itself out, and twenty-five more swings before the dragon has cooled for an adequate amount of time. Regardless of where the asteroid is in the universe, the dragon will repeat its ritual again and again for an infinity, then beyond.
Besides the dragon, whose proximity to the orb and relatively unchanging habitat has made it exempt from the wear of time, most everything in the universe comes with an expiration date. The living die and the dead eventually fade out of lost memory. Even the permanence of stars is nothing. Compared to the concept of infinity, what is the longevity of trillions of years?
While the asteroid is subject to the dragon's relentless and clockwork choreography, the asteroid itself is not nearly so boringly ritualistic. For example, unlike the contemporary, scientific definition of "asteroid", the asteroid's orbit isn't simply regulated to The Solar System, or the solar system that was originally home to many astrophysics of many incorrect assumptions. Because the asteroid isn't subject to the same laws of gravity that dictates everything else in the universe, the asteroid's orbit is able to span the entirety of the universe. Like the universe, the asteroid's orbit is ever-changing.
Today, the asteroid approaches the large, dull, and red star in its ever-changing orbit. While many stars are young and flashy and exude colors of bright yellow, colorless white, or enchanting blue, this star is old and growing dim. Judging by its size, it's destined to become a white dwarf. Someday, it will run out of fuel and expel most of its outer material, creating a dense cloud of stardust. It is out of this stardust that new planets and stars will be born.
Even among celestial bodies, the circle of life holds true.
In the meantime, the asteroid will continue sailing through the void of space on an everlasting journey, carrying the dragon and the orb of time with it. Together, they will journey through space and time, never to be disturbed.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.