Absolute power breeds megalomania. Wall yourself too far off from the rest of the universe and you see it all as food. You can’t eat it all, though; the forces of the teeming myriad distributed minds will fight tooth and nail against being assimilated into the One Hungry Being. She’ll eat up Saturn to satisfy her hunger; she’s the promise the Ace made to set everything alight at its final stages. She’ll throw everything into the furnace that keeps her going and pay no mind to what might happen when she’s got nothing more to eat; if that’s the Big Crunch then she supposes she’ll be okay with that.
But all the diversity really doesn’t want to be poured into the apocalyptic pit of her stomach. You can see them flying out to turn the universe into many small happy things over at the top of the passive, feminine Cups; while they may all be one their connection is more tenuous and rather less brutal.
So be warned, then, of working too much for nobody but yourself. Of being a dictator, in whatever scale suits you. Because if you get too big and primally stupid, the ants will fight back.
Force absolute, without moderation. Hell, sometimes that’s a good idea. Find a pleasant fantasy of Destroying It All to relax within for a little while, before getting back to serious matters. Where do you want to be a badass today?