CREATION

ACT I

Chapter 1 - Chaos

In the beginning, there was only him in the deep nothingness, a vast void of absolute absence, a land where every form, every sound, and every thought disappeared, absorbed into a total lack of substance.

It was like an endless darkness, devoid of a beginning and an end, the silence so complete that it consumed every sound before it could even be emitted.

In the nothingness, there was no life nor movement, only a glacial stillness that swallowed everything. It was a place where emotions dissolved, hopes vanished, and consciousness itself lost all point of reference.

He was called Chaos, and he ruled solitary in the deep heart of infinity; for him, it was nothing more than a place of contemplation, beyond the boundaries of time and space, confronting the concepts of existence and non-existence.

He was everything and nothing, the union of what had been, what is, and what will be, as well as of what will never be. A particle both infinitesimal and infinite at the same time, the beginning and the end of everything.

Chaos had existed forever, and forever he would remain. However, the weight of eternity began to be felt. His solitary existence, though perfect in its self-sufficiency, was saturated with an oppressive monotony. Everything depended on him, and only on him, but it was this very awareness that had become a prison. Boredom slowly crept in, like a silent wave breaking against a deserted shore.

Immersed in his thoughts, Chaos reflected on existence and non-existence, on what it meant to be the absolute center of the universe. But his contemplation was no longer enough. The Nothingness that enveloped him, once a realm of peace and reflection, had begun to transform into a trap with no way out.

It was then, for the first time, that something changed. An invisible spark passed through his essence, an impulse never felt before. Chaos understood that this flame, though perfect in its uniqueness, was not enough. He felt the desire to create, to give form to something that would break the static nature of nothingness.

But what to create? How to begin something in a realm where nothing existed, not even the concept of change?

In that spark, the decision was born: he would shatter his perfection to give life to something new. A deliberate fragmentation, an act of supreme will that would unleash the beginning of everything. Chaos was not only everything; he was also the seed of imperfection, of multiplicity, of birth and destruction.

And so, in the immensity of the Nothingness, Chaos prepared to perform the greatest act ever conceived: to divide himself and break the eternity of his solitude. From that decision, the first movement, the first sound, the first spark of creation would be born, shaping all that we know and much more.

That spark would be the beginning.

The form Chaos chose to take was, in its way, curious and charged with subtle irony, especially when considering the destiny it would bring. The Nothingness, from which everything had emerged, condensed into a unique entity that we shall call Genesis Prime. A luminous and immaculate sphere, so pure a white that it seemed almost unreal, wrapped in two ethereal crowns that caressed it endlessly, in an eternal and harmonious motion.

However, speaking of Genesis Prime as an “object” risks misleading us. It was not a point in space, nor an entity governed by the laws we associate with nature. It was something entirely alien, an existence beyond all imagination, and to understand its nature, a conceptual effort is required; it was the origin of the impossible.

The first great controversy in describing Genesis Prime is the very concept of place. It had no specific position because there was no “where” to place it. On the contrary, it permeated all of creation, for it itself was all of creation. Genesis Prime was, paradoxically, a point-like entity, infinitely small, and at the same time, an omnipresent entity, infinitely large.

This contradictory duality – being both a singularity and an infinity at once – defies all logic we can conceive. Not only did it represent everything, but it also included what was not yet born, what would never be, and even what could not be understood. Its essence was a mosaic of possibilities and impossibilities, an amalgamation of reality and non-reality, an elusive idea that transcended all imagination.

What made Genesis Prime even more extraordinary was the energy it contained. It was an incredibly massive amount, a force so immense that even the concept of infinity, in comparison, would seem trivial and reductive. This energy was not simply great: it was indescribable, a density so high that it challenged any attempt at measurement or definition.

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If we tried to translate it mathematically, we would face a paradox: the infinitely small and the infinitely large coexisted in a precarious balance. A number representing its energy density would be, according to our logic, infinity divided by zero, an idea that, even in our most extreme models, approaches the absurd.

This condition of unlimited energy and infinite density was unsustainable. Genesis Prime, as perfect as it was in its uniqueness, violated every principle that could make it stable. It did not conform to any reality because it was, by its very nature, above reality.

Everything that existed – or that could have existed – was contained in that particle. But it was precisely this absolute concentration that represented its weakness. Genesis Prime was a living contradiction, a tension ready to explode, like a bow pulled to the extreme limit.

The instability of Genesis Prime was intrinsic to its perfection. It was too pure, too absolute to survive without changing. It was as if the universe itself, in potential, rebelled against its state of total immobility, pushing to break free and find a new form.

And so, Genesis Prime found itself on the brink of an inevitable transformation. An impulse hidden in its depths was about to shatter its harmony, giving rise to the greatest act of creation ever conceived: an explosion that would generate space, time, and everything we know. But at that moment, Genesis Prime was still an absolute mystery, the seed of the entire cosmos waiting to sprout.

What followed the birth of Genesis Prime was a chain of events of divine proportions, so vast and incomprehensible that it bordered on catastrophe. In this primordial chaos, the unstable energy of the original particle found its balance by breaking apart and giving shape to something more recognizable to the human mind: our universe. It was the beginning of everything, the first chapter of a tangible existence.

Finally, through his act of creation, Chaos found a form. No longer just a boundaryless white flame, he had given himself an appearance: a human figure, for it was the one that pleased him the most. This form, imposing and magnificent, sat upon a flaming throne, vast as a star, radiating power and solemnity. Pandemonium, the realm he had generated, rose around him. A sphere of energy and matter, separate from the rest of the cosmos, a dimension unto itself that would never make contact with other realities.

Pandemonium was much more than a place. It was a sacred and terrible dwelling, the center of all that Chaos had created. The particles he himself had shaped danced in intricate choreographies, sparkling like stars around his throne. It was a realm of order and chaos, a living manifestation of Chaos’s own mind.

And there, on that burning throne, Chaos spent billions of years. Seated in his immense solitude, he contemplated what he had created and what he had become. The complex structures of the particles, their interactions and transformations, were an intricate spectacle that fascinated him. It was as if every movement, every exchange of energy, was a story he had written and was now reading with pride.

In those eons of contemplation, it seemed that the tedium that had once tormented him was finally defeated. Chaos was the undisputed lord of his realm, the center of a universe that revolved around him. His omnipotence allowed him to shape every detail, to witness every change. But that satisfaction proved to be an illusion.

Over time, even the incredible complexity he had created became a repetitive tale. Every particle, every cosmic dance that had initially enchanted him, progressively lost its charm. The perfection of the order he had established began to seem like a gilded prison, and the sense of monotony he had known at the dawn of his being returned to torment him.

Despite the magnificence of Pandemonium and the complexity of the creation, Chaos found himself once again trapped in his own omnipotence. No event, however extraordinary, could shake him anymore. Stasis reclaimed his existence, and the blazing giant at the center of nothingness returned to confront the void that had always accompanied him.

And so, the cycle of monotony repeated. Chaos, the creator of the beginning, the lord of all that existed, once again found himself imprisoned by his own power, waiting for a change that, by its nature, was already well known and predictable.

From this moment to the next phase of creation, so much time passed that it seemed there would be no room for a future different from this.

Those interested only in the plot may move on to the next chapter, while for the more curious readers, I leave an appendix describing what was created during that period and the processes through which it all came to be.