In the infinite void, there had been nothing.
Until Yahweh grew bored.
He longed for change—for beauty, complexity, meaning. So, with the full force of his divine will, Yahweh shaped the universe.
He poured care into every detail: galaxies arranged like brushstrokes across a canvas, stars set like gems in the velvet dark, planets sculpted with wonder in mind. It was a masterpiece of creation—meant to reflect the vastness of his light.
For a time, Yahweh and Amara wandered this new creation together, marveling at the worlds, walking among stars, bathing in nebulae. They were still united—brother and sister, light and shadow.
But all good things must end.
Yahweh wanted more.
He wanted children—beings that carried a spark of his infinite light. Reflections of himself. Angels.
The first of these was to be his masterpiece.
He gathered stars—dozens, hundreds—and wove them together with a fragment of his own brilliance. With precision, with reverence, he sculpted the first.
He named him Michael.
A towering being of cosmic hue, stretching a thousand meters tall, crowned with six glorious wings as white as the first light. Yahweh gave Michael strength beyond comprehension, wisdom just shy of his own, and beauty that outshone even the stars he was made from.
And when Michael opened his eyes—deep void-colored pools of awareness—he looked upon Yahweh and fell to one knee.
"Oh beloved Father," Michael said, his voice a blend of thunder and serenity, "what is my name?"
Yahweh, radiant in glory, spoke in a voice that shook galaxies but carried the warmth of love:
"Rise, my child. You are the first of many. Your name shall be Michael—my chief angel."
Michael rose, wings folding gracefully behind him, and stood at his Father's side.
"What comes next, Father?" he asked.
Yahweh smiled.
"You are my first, but not the last. Soon I shall create others like you—your brothers and sisters. Archangels. Together, you will watch over the rest of my creations. And if ever I am gone, you will lead."
Michael's eyes widened. "Gone? Why would you ever leave us?"
"Do not worry about it now," Yahweh replied, his tone unreadable. "If that day ever comes, you and your siblings will be ready."
Michael nodded, but the words lingered like a shadow at the edge of light. He tucked his concern away for now, and stood tall beside his creator—awaiting what would come next.