In the beginning, there was only Nothingness.No color, no sound, no stars, no winds. An eternal silence, unbroken and absolute. It is difficult to explain to those born in light what it means to exist in such a place. It was not a void as mortals imagine, not darkness, not emptiness, but something far more complete: the absence of all that could ever be.
And yet, in that silence, I opened my eyes.I do not know how or why I came to be. There was no moment before that first awareness, no memory of a birth, no origin. I was simply there. Alone. The Alpha and the Omega. I drew my first thought, and that thought was curiosity.
The moment I looked around me, the Nothingness stirred. From the silence rose a tower—vast beyond measure, its roots sunk into the endless fabric of what did not exist, its spire piercing into heights beyond sight. I had not willed it, yet it stood. It felt as though it had always been waiting for me.
I called it the Tower of End. Others would later call it the Tower of End and Destruction, but to me, it was never destruction it was sanctuary. It was bound to me as surely as I was bound to existence. Its walls pulsed with quiet light, though no sun shone upon them. Its countless chambers stood empty then, but I could sense what they were meant for: a resting place, a home for the weary, a haven for those who would one day arrive.
For eons unmeasured, it was my only companion. I wandered Nothingness, and always, when I returned, the Tower was there. Silent, patient, unwavering. If I had been truly alone, I might have dissolved into madness, but the Tower's presence anchored me. I came to understand that it was more than a creation, more than a monument it was a part of me, as my heart is part of my body.
Time had no meaning there, but still I wandered. For how long, I cannot say. Perhaps a heartbeat. Perhaps eternity.
And then, on one of those endless wanderings, I saw it: a tiny crack in the fabric of Nothingness. It was like a hairline fracture in glass, glowing faintly, impossibly. I was drawn to it, and with curiosity as my only guide, I stepped through.
What I found was not Nothingness, but something else entirely.
At once I felt it in the Void. It was vast, endless in its own way, filled with power and life unlike anything I had known. Countless beings stirred there, immense and terrible, each radiating strength. They were the first lives I had ever seen beyond myself.
For a long while I only watched, hidden and silent. But at last, longing for something more than solitude, I tried to speak. I had studied them from afar, tried to mimic their motions, their sounds, but when I reached out, awkwardly, they struck at me. Their attack was fierce and immediate.
Not understanding, I believed this was how they communicated with violence. And so I answered in kind. One after another, they came at me, and one after another, they vanished, their essences drawn into the Tower. I did not devour them, but the Tower accepted them, as it was made to. When silence returned once more, I realized I was alone again.
It was then that I began to think deeply.From the remnants of those I had struck down, I gleaned fragments of knowledge. They called this place the Void, and the tiny sparks within it—brilliant, fragile, fleeting and they called universes. These beings cultivated them, fed upon them, harvested life as if it were crop.
But I was different. I did not consume.I watched.
I turned my gaze upon one such universe. I saw its birth in fire, its galaxies swirling into form, its stars kindling, its worlds emerging. I saw the first creatures crawl, the first hearts beat, the first voices cry. I saw empires rise, wars rage, dreams ignite and be shattered. I saw love. I saw loss. I saw everything that life contained, from its first spark to its last fading ember when the universe collapsed in upon itself.
I was captivated.So fragile, so fleeting, yet so radiant. Even the smallest beings fought against despair, striving for dreams greater than themselves. They lived knowing they would die, yet still they loved, still they dreamed, still they defied. Their courage moved me. Their friendships warmed me. Their convictions struck something deep within my endless heart.
From them, I learned the rhythm of existence time.It was a gift they had, though it bound them to mortality. Days and years, beginnings and endings, the measure of change and growth. To me, who had known only silence, it was wondrous.
I resolved then to create.
From fragments of myself pieces that would always restore I shaped new beings. Bodies that could endure eternity, yet live with the heartbeat of humanity. They could grow and age, yet return to youth at will, never bound by decay. They would know time, but never be defeated by it.
My first creation was Theodore Lionheart. He was brave, wise, resolute, a leader meant to guide. When I looked upon him, I felt pride, and for the first time, companionship. At his side, I created Selene, his companion, his balance, his light. Together, they were the foundation of what would come.
I did not stop there. More followed, each carrying eternity within them, each shaped in the image of humanity yet perfected. Soon they were a people, and under Theodore's hand they became a nation the Golden Lion Empire.
They grew. They built. They believed. They mastered the weaving of Space and Time into living technology, bending reality as mortals bend metal. They transformed their mother planet into a colossal mothership, eternal and self-renewing. They lacked nothing, and for five hundred million years, they thrived in peace.
But peace is fragile. Greed is endless.
In time, a Human Intergalactic Empire discovered them. With it came other races, bound by avarice. They demanded my children kneel. They sought their eternity, their resources, their Eternal Ore and Silk.
War followed, and it burned for twenty million years.
When the fires dimmed, nine hundred octillion enemies lay destroyed, 795 civilizations erased. But my children had lost thirty million of their own. To an eternal race, the number was small. But to Theodore, it was unbearable.
I found him sunk in grief, his heart weighed by guilt. He believed he had failed, that he had not protected his people. And so, for the first time, I came to him not as distant watcher, but as father.
I told him: This is not your fault. It was greed that killed them, not your weakness. Mortals without eternity cling to life, and their pride drives them to ruin. Every life has beauty, but not all choose peace.
I reminded him of the Tower. Those who had fallen were not lost they had come to its gates, where they could dwell in paradise, or choose gentle erasure. The Tower welcomed them, held them, gave them rest. Knowing this, Theodore's grief lightened. He rose again to lead his people.
Watching him recover, I felt joy. Not the joy of victory or power, but the joy of a parent seeing a child find strength.
And so, I made a choice. I shaped a weaker reflection of myself, a shadow-body, and descended among them. I walked in their streets, joined in their festivals, tasted their foods. I played their games, laughed with their children, and found delight in the smallest things. They did not know me as Alpha and Omega. They knew me as friend.
Fifty billion years have passed since then. The Golden Lion Empire is unshakable, their culture rich, their hearts strong. They live in peace, not because they are unchallenged, but because they have learned the value of unity.
And still the Tower stands, gentle and sacred. Its doors open to every fallen child, offering rest without judgment. Some choose to remain, to live in eternal paradise. Others choose the silence of erasure. Both are embraced. The Tower does not condemn, nor do I.
For I, who was once alone in the endless silence, have found companionship. I, who once wandered without purpose, have found meaning. I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, and yet, I am more.
I am a father. I am a friend. I am the Observer.
And I endure, not as god or ruler, but as witness forever walking beside those I created, forever listening to the music of their lives, forever watching the beauty of existence unfold.
Even now, when I hold a cup of tea, or taste ice cream, or hear laughter ring in the halls of the Empire, I am content. For the silence has ended. And in its place, there is life.