Does the hurricane hate the city, built in its path?
Does the storm revel over the neighborhood, drowned in its wake?
Does the rolling stone hate the ant, too slow and feeble to move from its path?

Hardly, merely the way things are. Indifference for nature is natural. ...But where intent is held, there may be a passing curiosity or even a little cruel malevolence above, and Insignificance in its place below.
So what concerns are held by she who deigns to stand, one above it all?

Flat color stream commish for Lydia Corell of her rather malevolent, titanic alter-dimensional other namd Singula, overlooking some planet we're familiar with (perhaps in her own realm? Hmm!) and spending what time amuses her.