Another super-pessimistic story about the worst outcome to everything, written way past midnight:


The most lethal creatures in the universe looked like rough leather and sticks, without the elaborations of lesser species, but they were immensely adaptable. Their asymmetric body plan symbolized destruction.
Most ecosystems settled down after a billion years or so: a few dozen basic patterns vaguely resembling the species of Earth. This nameless world, referred to as The Source by its victims, was different.
As competing species evolved, they spawned sudden predators that killed 99% of their environment. Each subsequent birth explosion started a new heroic age.
Their cells were immortal, even if the aliens weren't. When they died, they disintegrated into swarms that infected other organisms.
Progress continued forever. Intelligence evolved in radically different ways, with the winner erasing all competition.
The most complex systems took extreme measures to prevent disruptions, outlawing most thoughts.
The answer was to expand faster than any conceivable threat. It was time to seize the stars.
Fast-expanding supercivilizations were also the most evil, full of desperate slaves evading unspeakable penalties. No god responded to their lamentations. In the end, communism always won.
When the spheres of two civilizations overlapped, the more advanced one absorbed the simpler one, usually too fast to notice.
Nebulous counteralliances extended across universes, with the faint hope of eventually destroying the most perverse supersocieties.
Their prospects were bleak. The laws of evolution were universal and overrode all morals.
In the war against The Source, the outcome was already inevitable, though it would take ages to be certain.
There was now a 99.6502% chance that in an infinitely interconnected universe, only the most evil entity would prevail.



Best hard SF novel ever: Infinite Thunder by Jack Arcalon.
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