remain in this other plane, as a god

You realize you can do anything you want. You begin to shape this reality, creating first food, then fantastical clothing, then buildings of ornate design. Your mind has expanded with this new power and you go about this lush garden you have created, improving it and building it. Then, you add people into this garden to enjoy it with you. They become your friends, just as you will it.

But the people grow tiresome, and try as you might to improve them with your power, you realize that they will always be just a little too annoying, too needy, too weak for a creature as powerful as yourself. You try to build yourself equals, peers, partners that can understand the power you wield, but each time they prove worthless and you destroy them instead. The power you wield is great, but cannot be replicated.

Years pass in this other realm, and time slips away and has little meaning. Anything you want simply comes to exist. And then it fades away as you grow tired of it.

You look out over the ruins of the once beautiful garden you had created, and find its ashes no longer amuse you. The tortured residents who once held your appreciation writhe on the ground, perpetually tortured for the crime of disappointing you. You begin to slowly unfold your large fortress that you live upon, reducing it, shrinking it, bringing the whole world to no longer exist. You fold up the bleak and shattered sky. You fold up the tortured souls who cry out for mercy. They sigh in relief as you remove their existence.

You find yourself back in the room, and no time has passed. Your memory flickers, you remember this place... it was a cantina? You chuckle to yourself as you see the trappings of reality around you. You realize that here, your power is still great, but much diminished. You cannot simply will something to happen, and watch reality bend to you. Instead, you must take it by ****.

And that is what you must do. You turn your gaze to the **** twi'lek at your feet.