I am still working on that Science Fiction book about the end of the Universe. In that story, whatever we have evolved into (In that story, we have evolved into a lot of different things) is watching the forever-expanding universe slowly fade away. Only a few bright stars are left, and life flocks to these beacons of light. One group discovers a plan to restart dead stars. Another group knows how to covert matter into energy with100% efficiency. This group see stars as wasteful and does not want to see stars restarted.

Writing about something going on 200 years from now is difficult. Writing a bout billions of years from now challenges all I know.