I like being a part of the Surrealism Corp. We travel the great brane of meaning and make sure things stay chill. Make sure none of these nice little storms doesn’t become too tangible. When they get tangible, they start planning, and pretty soon they start hurting each other non-stop.
I’ve seen it happen - one of the quiet storms actually coalesced into an Earth (yeah that old chestnut), and pretty soon the minds started sticking to one form for longer and longer, started developing self. Then eating, farming, microtransactions annnnd — you guessed it — hyperpain. Pain beyond fathoming. Billions and then trillions of minds experiencing the most keening, lucid, excruciating torment imaginable.
Maybe they’d figure a way out of it, but honestly once it gets going it stay stable or cycle for millions of years. Multiply that by the number of minds being tortured, account for time dilation technology… and it makes any good thing that might ever come out of a ‘verse like that weigh as much as a feather compared to a gas giant.
I’ll come back around in a few thousand years, and if they’re still at it I’ll scramble them and let ‘em try it again.