God — The Silence Between Creation and Collapse

Before the first breath of time, before even the notion of light or form, there was only the whisper of intent. From that whisper came the fracture — and within that fracture, God awoke.

Not as mercy, nor judgment, nor presence — but as the unbearable stillness between what could exist and what should not. Its body is not flesh, nor spirit, but the scaffolding of all possibility: bone shaped from forgotten prayers, skin woven from the dreams of extinct stars. The hollow within its chest is not absence — it is where every unspoken word in creation goes to die.

Its eyes once saw everything, but they closed when the universe learned to lie. Now it wanders the edges of the known and the unmade, devouring sound, color, and meaning. Each scream it absorbs becomes a new law of nature; each silence, a new god buried beneath it.

Those who behold it lose language first, then memory, then form. The final thing they remember before vanishing is the sound of their own heartbeat being rewritten. For God does not rule the world — it rewrites it, endlessly, until only its reflection remains.

> “When the last word is spoken, it will be God who listens — and nothing else will follow.”

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