Every tree in all the forests on Earth.

Every grain of sand on the beach.

Every drop in the ocean.

None of these even come close to infinity. If you think you have comprehended how big that is, you are wrong. Nothing can be compared to the endless number, and nothing will ever allow any of us to truly understand it. But I'm willing to bet I'm the closest to it. I am not from this universe. The multiverse is the best example of infinity, and I have travelled across it more times than I could possibly count. Yet even my travels do not come close to the colossal giant of unlimited. I invented multiversal travel; perhaps I should have set limits before toying with something so limitless.

At first, it was amazing. More than that - It was like experiencing a miracle. Up until the very moment that I successfully travelled, it was purely theoretical. Proving that it worked in practice changed everything. I was not alone when I pressed the button on that device, but I was once I let go of it. I was in the kitchen, and my family watched as I used it, and presumably saw me disappear. At the time, the device had no proper way of navigating the multiverse or keeping a history of previous destinations, so my original universe has been lost in the boundless flow of everything. My original family probably still think they saw me die that day.

After the transport, things immediately felt different in that room. Small things that you'd never truly notice, but after living there for so long, I think my subconscious knew. The paint strokes on the wall in slightly different directions than before. The tiles of the floor seeming slightly colder than usual. The marble pattern of the countertops just seeming...off. I was seeing something so very familiar, yet not what I knew. The bigger picture hadn't changed, but every tiny detail making it up had.

I avoided finding myself. I left the house as soon as possible and explored the new world. Nothing was substantially new, and I wanted to experience more. So I kept pressing the button. That first week or so had me switching universes at least 20 times a day. It turns out that about half of them don't contain any life - But that's still an infinite amount. 50% of the endlessness is still endless.

It only took a few weeks before I wanted to find another me and speak to them. The times I did were wonderful at first - Experiencing myself from a third-person perspective is something I could hardly wrap my head around. And neither could me - the other me. As selfish as it sounds, meeting myself for the first time is a fond memory I have.

That was 25 years ago. Since then, I have visited realities where our technology has become so much more advanced; They taught me a lot. I've seen Earths with 3 moons, I've witnessed the globe after an apocalypse, and I've experienced a world where humans were not the dominant species. I have done everything twice, and to be honest... I grew tired of it. When you have every possible scenario in the palm of your hand, what's the point?

Every insect on every tree in all the forests on Earth.

Every possible arrangement of every grain of sand on the beach.

Every single molecule of every drop in the ocean, multiplied by a billion.

None of those numbers even come close to the infinity that this device could reach. When you know that your life is 1 in infinity, you have mathematically and scientifically proven yourself to be nothing. 0.

The first time the multiverse truly scared me is not on any of the near-death experiences I've had in my journies. It's when I first found a universe in which I never existed. Nobody knew or cared. My family; my friends; my colleagues - they were all just as happy. If a puzzle piece is not even a requirement to finish the puzzle, why include it in the box?

I've done things I'm not proud of. When I say I've done everything twice, I mean everything - The good and the bad. I've caused extinctions on entire Earths just for fun. The overall number of living beings in the multiverse is always infinite - So do deaths even count? Murdering 8,000,000 people sounds like a lot, but compared to the infinite that is left and always will be left, it's not even a drop in the ocean. Actions have no consequences when you have seen the boundless infinity. I have killed you before.

Don't feel so down about that, though. Those people are all still alive in every other universe. You're still alive in this one. Those actions had a net loss of nothing. I'm not evil - Given infinite possibilities, everyone would eventually do everything. It's just a game of probabilities at that point. You would do it, too.

There was a time when I wished I could still be surprised, and that time was only a few days ago. But I may have wished too hard, because for the first time since I started my travels, I am experiencing something new. In hindsight, it was obvious that something like this would happen eventually, but it simply never crossed my mind.

I met another me. This in itself wasn't a surprise; I meet myself all the time. But this me was different - He had also discovered multiversal travel. He had been travelling for about as long as I had and was growing just as bored with the same old new. I don't know what's less likely - Bumping into each other, or not having bumped into each other sooner.

We shared our experiences, and although neither of us had done anything the other hadn't, it still felt nice. It felt nice that someone could truly understand how alone and insignificant I felt amongst it all. You can imagine my interest when he told me he had a plan that would allow us to truly experience something new.

I jokingly said "Well the only thing we haven't tried,"

He knew the end of the sentence, "is death!"

"Exactly," we both laughed, "is that your plan?"

He smiled as he clarified, "We both think the same way - You know that's not my plan. Because if it were,"

I finished his sentence, "it would be a bad plan. Because even death is insignificant."

We exchanged a melancholy smile, a face I'm used to pulling, but not seeing.

He broke the silence. "It's a bit bigger than that. I'm thinking something like...the death of everyone."

I was confused at first. "Like, taking this entire universe out with us in it? What's even the difference? There are still infinite other universes left. It'd still equate to nothing, mathematically."

"No, my dearest me. I mean everyone. Taking out the multiverse."

My emotions whirred to life for the first time in decades. I felt dread, terror, fear...

"The multiverse?" I asked this with an almost shaky voice. Feeling such a primal emotion felt strange, almost new. Death doesn't scare me, not now that I've experienced it all. But the idea of nothing existing? That's something worth being frightened over.

"Exactly. Here, I've got it all planned out."

He handed me multiple sketches - plans to alter our devices in a way that wouldn't pull the user through the multiverse, but instead, pull reality apart. Not just nearby, but across every single universe. It required both of our devices' parts to succeed.

I've run the numbers again and again. I've found no faults.

"You can't be serious."

"As I said, we both think alike. You know I'm serious."

"I do NOT think like you. This isn't a plan, this is an ending."

"Well perhaps when the author refuses to write an ending, someone needs to step in and force it."

It was only at this point that I realised, just because someone is genetically you, it will never make them you. The only me is me. There is only one of me. There is only one of you. The infinite number of us across the multiverse are identical in every way, but they are not us. Only you will ever get the true privilege of being you.

He spoke again, "It's all or nothing. You know what it's like - Ending one life, a million lives, a TRILLION lives, all total to nothing. The only way to get anything greater than 0 is to go for everything. There are two options here - Insignificance, or the total end of it all... And I'm sick of living the former."

"A single death is not insignificant, it --"

"You spoke it yourself, did you not?"

It began to dawn on me all the horrific acts I've committed in my search for new things to do.

"Yes. But that was then... This is now..."

He knew I wasn't going to help him. Truthfully, I think he knew that from the beginning - He reached into his pocket and pulled out a device. He did this whilst already holding his own in his other hand. I hastily reached into my own pocket to confirm what I already knew, as my pocket was empty.

"I'm sorry we couldn't see eye-to-eye."

With that, he pressed a button, and was gone. He left me stranded in this universe. Your universe.

Needless to say, we're still alive. I just don't know if that's going to last.

Maybe someone stopped him, maybe he just hasn't activated it yet. I cannot predict what is going to happen, and that terrifies me almost as much as his plan itself. It's not a feeling I'm used to anymore.

Maybe nothing will happen. I hope nothing will happen. But I felt it my duty to inform you, so that if you see on the news that something at the distant edge of our galaxy is rapidly moving towards us, at least you'll know what it is. It's the end of everything, ripping apart everything in its path.

Everyone in the other universes will have no idea what's headed for them.

Only this one will.

A 1 in infinity chance - 0% odds of this universe being the one to find out.

And yet here we are.

Maybe that does make this one significant after all.

===