Don't know where this is going yet. Maybe Kingdom of Heaven.
There are layers of quintessence and states of being that pile atop one another off in the furthest edges of the universe. The energy that fills this space crackles when a divine being is laid to rest in the dust of the stars and distant galaxies.
The ashes of Grace and power and light have settled on the outskirts of a distant bright-colored nebula. Suspended in space, the remnants are at peace and do not vibrate as they did in life. Within the nebula that cradles them, the shards patiently await reformation into the star that they will someday become. It will be a bright glorious golden thing, and humankind will contemplate it in several millenia once it has reached maturity.
And then, something in the void stirs. There is a shift of power and the stars tremble. A meteor shatters as the echoes of a voice that is and yet is not booms over its cold surface.
The call brings forth a change in the remnants. Uneasily, they stir and shy away from the power behind the non-voice. Incorporeal, the voice gentles and soothes the remnants as if reaching out with touch. Be easy, beloved. Be still.
The remnants quiver then settle. The voice, when it comes next, is pleased. It is too early yet for you to take your place in these heavens, beloved. You have a task you have to see through.
All of Heaven heaves as if gasping, and Creation coats its corners.