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A Lonely God
3 - Life

3 - Life

The inanimate universe was one thing, but life proved a far larger hurdle. God experimented and planned and struggled and plotted. For eons, he struggled to make something worthy of observing the perfection he had created, something capable of comprehending his legacy. He created iterations of life and slew them in singular instances. Countless being given birth, only to cease to exist in the same breath. The words of my ancestor record what made humanity different. God split off two pieces of his eternal soul to birth the first humans. He made us divine. And that divinity is what I aspire to.

Space was painted with bright streaks of light and explosions of molten rock. Equilibrium had been reached and the perfect cycle continued through the eons.

Yet I wasn't watching it.

Instead I pondered my singularity. Why was I the only one? I wasn't lonely, for loneliness is a thing of mortals. But I wanted my creation to be observed, for its beauty to be appreciated. It was a novel issue, for creation could only be appreciated by creators. I was a creator, but could I truly give birth to other creators? I could only try. My first idea was to create a mind in the image of the universe I had created, borrowing from the perfection I had already wrought. With a thought I split matter into the elementary particles defined by my laws and began to weave them into something much more complicated.

More complicated than even the universe itself.

I was completely absorbed in my work as I discovered my creation wasn't as perfect as I had originally believed. New particles were created on whims and laws changed to better fit my new vision. Finally, my labor was done and I stepped back to view the new creator. It was an intricate interweaving of concepts and matter. Of law and physicality. And I was beautiful. But it didn't move. It merely stayed in perfect equilibrium. Masterful equilibrium of astral and physical, but sterile equilibrium all the same. The answer came to me in a spark of glorious insight.

Creation was not an act of logical equilibrium. It was a breaking of equilibrium.

I knew the answer.

“Let There Be Chaos” I ordained.

A counterpart to order, the onslaught of chaos would truly bring the cosmos to life. And with it the new creator. The universe stirred into motion as the law that had previously held it captive loosened. Absolute no more. The effect was minor and yet it made all the difference. It was more alive than ever. The creator moved for the first time. It, more than anything, was ruled by chaos.

And embody chaos it did.

With a single movement of its long appendages it ripped a star to its components and reassembled it as a blackhole. I observed my creation as it rampaged through the stars, bringing chaos with it. For a time I was content as I watched it grow and evolve. But a seed of doubt was beginning to grow in me. For all that it destroyed and created it never made anything new, only copied what it saw. It had no creativity, no drive. I frowned, the universe darkening. I reached out to it, and asked in a medium deeper than words,

“What do you think of my creation?”

It continued on its rampage as if it had heard nothing. I tried again,

“What will you create?”

Silence.

This was not what I wanted. It was simply another part of the system. Infinitely more complicated yet part of the system all the same. Incapable of true innovation.

With a thought I reached out and reduced it to atoms. It was time to try again.

And try again I did.

This time I created a multitude of creatures, hoping that together they could overcome their individual limits. For a time I thought I had succeeded as they spread out across the planet. They were individually far weaker than the creator had been but together they accomplished wonders. They learned fast and created new things. Nothing complicated but the mere act of creating something new was an achievement in and of itself. Primitive societies even began to spring up on the massive planet they all resided on. Yet… they were hollow. They lacked something I couldn't pin down at the time, but would eventually identify as emotion. They couldn't appreciate my creation, couldn't appreciate anything. So, with the beginning of an emotion I would later learn was irritation, I wiped them all out.

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And started again.

For eons I worked, creating countless creatures and machines. They grew brilliant and sophisticated, spanning wondrous technologies and creating intricate societies. They colonized stars and planets and all the celestial bodies.

Yet, in the end, they all lacked something. True emotion.

I had learned to simulate emotion but it was a shallow, hollow thing. All it did was make them quarrels and fight. So genocide after genocide I committed in my endless search for perfection. And with every genocide my irritation grew.

Finally, it came to a boiling point.

I was observing my latest failure. A society of tentacled beings. Made in the image of the original creator they were the most advanced being I had ever created. Despite being so individually weak they could not even survive the void of space they had created technologies to colonize the stars. Armadas of masterful ships and an empire of countless citizens.

Yet all they did was fight.

Their hollow emotions allowed no appreciation of the wonder around them as the dove deeper and deeper into pointless wars. They fought for only the sake of fighting. No grand purpose, no corrupt ambitions, just the weak tugging of simulated emotions. My anger reached a boiling point as I watched two armies clash in weak rage, merely for the fact they could conceive of nothing else to do. They would rather kill themselves than appreciate the beauty I had created.

So I raged.

The space itself burned as my rage reached its peak. Their little wars soon became pointless as they were wiped out of existence.

“Why” I boomed, “Why is this beyond me”

The void remained quiet.

“WHY!”

Creation is an act that defies logic, and in that moment so did I.

I laughed, a furious exclamation, and the universe shook with my mad outburst.

“If the height of logic and order continues to defy me, then I shall defy it!”

In that moment I had unwittingly let my emotion consume me, and in doing so I lowered myself to the level of a mortal. But in that concept of mortality I found my answer. My mad solution.

The two beings I created were utterly illogical. Supple, weak flesh that could only survive in the most perfect of conditions and a mind inferior to even the dumbest of my previous creations. But caught up in my rage and enlightenment I didn't care. When I finally completed them, nothing happened. They simply stood on unliving legs and stared with dead eyes. Crying out in pain, I plunged my metaphysical hands into the depth of my very being and ripped out two great chunks of my eternal divinity. I shoved them into the vessels I had created and with a roar of pain severed my connection to them, fully giving them to my creations.

For a moment there was silence, terrible silence as failure flew like an arrow towards my core.

Only to be stopped by a single clenched fist.

My creation opened his fist and closed it again, idly flexing the five long appendages emerging from his palm with curiosity that brought about a strange clenching in my chest.

The second I saw that curiosity I knew.

I had succeeded.

The very universe shook as it rearranged itself to accommodate its first true inhabitants. Despite my exhaustion, a novel feeling to one such as me, joy and shock engulfed me as my creations began to move. Looking around in confusion they seemed to see me, and to my shock they reached out. Their communication was crude, nothing but weak impressions, but they communicated nonetheless. And they felt real, more real than anything I had ever created.

Something in me stirred, almost like a memory reaching out to me, but when I reached out to it, it faded like mist on a summer day.

Still, the barest spark of insight flared within me, urged on by my creations’ attempts to communicate with me. It was a word. A meaning. A language.

I reached out to my creations, and in an effort to calm, I named them.

“Henceforth, you shall be known as Humanity.”

Those born of earthly rage, rather than heavenly grace.

But that wasn't enough for them. They pushed, asking for something. It took me an instant to deduce what they wanted.

They wanted individual names.

It filled me with joy to see them display such independence within the first moments of creation. I looked at their weak forms and pondered on their questions. They both had two legs and two arms connected to a torso, with a head full of hair crowning it. But one appeared hardier with visible muscles and strong bones while the other was a painting of gentle curves and full lips.

And I knew their names.

I manifested a form, similar to theirs, feeling a strange sense of familiarity as I stretched out my new form. I placed a hand on the hardier one’s head.

“Adam”

I turned to the other.

“Eve”

I lingered for another instance, enjoying their presence before casting my body aside once more. It was not beckoning to stay.

Still, I drowned in rapture. They were truly alive. Created in the image of me. I laughed, a thing of pure joy, and declared.

“No longer is creation uninhabited! Let life and joy usher in a new age!”

The universe joined me in celebration, responding to my will.

The stars shone brighter and the planets danced around them.

For I was no longer alone.