Darkness enveloped the spherical mass of water and rock. Gasses, liquids and solids all combined into a formless, purposeless object. Yet in the vast obscure void something stirred. Suddenly, out of the deep darkness, a voice murmured.
“Light,” he whispered with an intensity that shook through the elements creating waves of pressure like earthquakes and thunder. With confidence, he allowed his own raw energy to be transformed into vision and, for the first time in our time-space dimension, photons flew about everywhere. They flew out of himself giving evidence of the globe’s silhouette. Instantly the particles of wave and energy hit against the sphere’s side that was facing him so that the other side was in the night. For only where there is light the shadows are clearly seen. As the photons flew out effortlessly, endlessly, He realized he was just as bright in time-space dimension as He had imagined and He was pleased.
But he transformed his energy into more than just light. Light was only the visible part, for hidden in light’s existence is the secret of the invisible powers of time and gravity. By slowing down his raw energy, he could make matter: matter that was to be interconnected for an eternity of time. And time can only be understood at the speed of light. So he watched the light bend under his feet, he felt what it is to transcend time and space and let the force of his own light spin the world like a potter does with the wheel. He saw it and smiled.
As he waited for his little rotating ball to get to the same point where it had started from, he thought of each step he would take. He had studied this in detail many times. He had imagined and created everything in his head. But no imagination can compare to the thrill of actually creating something new, not even his. So as soon as the night was darkening the same half as at the beginning, he began to speak in rhythm with each rotation, making, organizing, moving, creating, composing, painting. “Sea,” “land,” his voice echoed through space-time. At one point, he enveloped the whole sphere with a mantle of soft materials like those a mother uses to wrap her baby: cozy blankets, soft and warm. At another point he made systems of other spheres, planets and stars everywhere, only measurable by light and gravity. He made them all as if they had been there forever. Mature and balanced, they came out of nothing. He likes patterns; he appreciates groups and stable systems that are in complex relation with each other as a good reflection of himself. Besides, he also loves beauty and thought the sky needed some twinkling lights during the night parts. So he made them with his voice and accommodated them with his hands, spun them here and there just for fun. Oh did he not have fun that day? He even made sure the lights in the sky made little drawings, like a toddler playing connect the dots. He liked what he saw and felt accomplished, but could not wait to start on the final parts of his artwork. Yes, light, time, space, stars and beaches were amazing. And yet they were all but the stage for a much more complex form of art: he called it life.
And so he spoke organic materials into existence, organizing them into incredibly complex systems, far more complex than the stars themselves. He combined elements already done with some new ones as needed, and gave them all different information. It was marvelous and exhilarating. Beings never seen before by anyone of the hosts started opening their eyes everywhere, jumping into the air and flying free, or swimming carelessly in the waters. An amazing array of colors exploded with each passing hour. From time to time he would chuckle to himself and he would play with a creature or two on his way to another one… some were big, some were small… some were really small. Some were more intelligent than others. But all had their own powers and abilities. All had their own place in the balance of this never before seen system of life. He almost ran out of time making the last couple of reef fish before the next day came around, and when it did, he was ready. He just went on to speak land-life into existence the same way he did the flying and the swimming lives. He created patterns, similarities and differences between all the land animals. He gave them powerful skeletons and different capabilities. He put information in them capable of tremendous variety and resilience. He liked to see them running and jumping. He even rode a few of them here and there. When he had done all that he wanted to do he sat down and recognized the beauty of it all. He could not have been any happier, at least for the moment. He spoke and it was so. He sang and it came to be. He thought it and it happened. Now, towards the middle of the light part of the day, it was time for his final touch, His final masterpiece, the coda in this symphonic explosion of life.
So he stood up, looked up at the sky full of life and light, but he did not say a word. His voice had commanded his energy to materialize into being, but not this time. This last creature was different. This time he planted himself on the ground and with his own bright eternal hands he made a large pile of mud. Taking the elements in the dirt itself, he shaped a body unlike anything else he had done and with his own fingers of light he weaved the heart first. This organism was more complex than any other, and he needed to do things perfectly with no mistakes.
He worked slowly but methodically and creatively at the same time. Like a master artist, one by one each part of the system was designed, each piece of organic material given the information it would need. He followed each vain out with his fingers, he shaped each bone to fit the next. He stopped only to contemplate this or that detail for a second or two. Soon there was a crowd of curious livestock looking over his shoulder but he was too busy and pretended not to notice. When he got to the nervous system he smiled as he concentrated so many nerves in one area or another. He saw the interactions these would create. He had fun with the long and narrow passages for food and took special interest in carving out each muscle. He sighed as he finished shaping each hand, thinking of things only he understood at the time. He struggled a bit with the face, there were so many options in his mind. But he found comfort in knowing the power of variety he had put in every block of his masterpiece. He took a step back, looked behind him at some of the other living pieces of art around him, and looked back at the lifeless mannequin of mud. He had saved the brain for last. More than anything else, this would be what made man like him: creative, smart, complicated, assertive, loving, and most of all, free to choose his path in life. He let another sigh out, clearing some dust off from man’s right shoulder. Then, resolute as always, he proceeded to intertwine the most intricate system of connections and electrical avenues that he could imagine. One by one the connections were put down, creating a masterful grid of extremely complex organic materials. He gave them powers such as plasticity and the ability to create connections of their own. “This,” he said softly to himself but loud enough to be audible, “will let him discover and create things on his own, just like us.” With thoughtful precision he tied up the last nerves to the eyes, and added a little bit more hair on the head before he took a small break.
As the sun neared the horizon, he knew what he had to do. He walked up to the immobile form and laid it down gently. He had to get down on his knees in order to put its back and neck softly on the sand. Then, he laid across its body, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, clasping his hands to man’s and lifting them to the level of his head. As he put his forehead against his creature’s face, he took one deep breath. Slowly he let his breath in through man’s mouth. He felt the lungs filling. Three times he shared his own breath with man, through his own mouth. As he was about to do it the third time he could not help but to think, and in his mind he saw it all. He saw the half-eaten fruit on the ground. He saw the flaming sword at the gates. He felt the cold shivering nights and saw the blood soaked altars crowned with innocent lambs. He saw cloth diapers, gold and myrrh. He heard the shouting crowds and the mocking voices. He saw it all… and paused. He knew after the third breath there would be no turning back. He could still stop himself from giving life to man. But, how would the living hosts know him fully? How could he live with not giving man a chance to choose for himself? Was non-existence better than the conflict ahead? Was lifelessness the best option so that he himself, the author of life, would never have to taste it? No, certainly not. So, with the whole hosts of living organisms in the visible and invisible dimensions watching, he took one final breath and gave it all to the beautiful image of himself he had been lying on. And as the wind of his loving power filled the lungs, man’s heart started to dance. The warmth of energy quickly spread all the way to the body’s feet and hands, which were still holding on to his when he woke up. It only took about three seconds for man to open his eyes. And when they did, all they saw was light.