He Who Sits Above

"Sister."
"Brother?"
"Light, darkness. Right, wrong. Truth, lie. Real, false. Love, hate. Life, and death. All things which exist, and all which negates such things. Tell me, of what importance are they?"
"Why do you ask, brother?"
"Please, just answer the question."
"Their meaning is derived from the balance they provide to reality. For every full moon, there is a blazing sun. For every withering flower, there exists a younger, lively one to take its place. All things exist within a cycle. Everything that is can be compared and contrasted, and through such a process, meaning is found."
"Correct."
"Why do you ask such a question?"
"Do you remember the formation of this reality? Do you recall the way in which my hands blended all things together to create this universe? How through my rigorous labor, I gave rise to something new. Why did I do it?"
"You did it just because."
"Just because?"
"Yes. Just because."
"You perceived it that way, sister?"
"We once sat in nothingness. We existed, and yet we did not. There was nothing. No logic, no reason, no time, no space, no form, no ideas, no feelings. It was just us. You looked at me one day, and you uttered something. You stood up, and through your hand there was everything, and it was as if everything had always been. It seemed without rhyme or reason, those actions of yours. Truthfully, I never gave it much thought after that. I considered the reason immaterial, and we chose an existence of non-interference, almost never interacting with your creation.
"It was not without rhyme or reason."
"But it must have been. Rhyme nor reason existed before your creation. All there was, was nothing, and us. 
"You do not understand. It was spontaneous, it was sporadic, or so I thought. Now I question that. What I do know, was that within me stirred something I had not yet experienced. I felt a longing for something."
"Something?"
"Yes, something. Anything, anything that was not what had always been, for what had always been had been nothing at all. I longed for love, for life, for beauty, for death, for rot. I longed for feeling, for purpose. Oh, how desperately I wanted it all."
"Brother, you have never expressed these thoughts to me before. What changed? What made you want to open up like this?"
"I had a revelation."
"Oh?"
"It is true that I created all which is, but that is not all that I made, sister."
"Yes, I know. There was something else. Something more. Speaking of which, did you wish to elaborate on him? I never understood that choice of yours."
"Sure. When I first felt the desire to create, there were other feelings that overcame me. Curiosity, and relatability, in particular. I wanted to know if what I experienced was unique to me. I wanted to see whether the experience I had was one another being could have as well. 
"And so, you created him?"
"Yes, and he was beautiful. He too sat within a void, alone. Without purpose, without meaning, without desire, without intent."
"He stayed that way for a while, brother. All he did was sit there, much like we had."
"Indeed, he did."
"To us, he was little more than a figment of our imaginations. A concept one might outline on a paper page, or a note one might jot down into a journal. He was little more than a mere story you fabricated, much like an author fabricates a character he might form some attachment to. I know I ought have the answer to this by now, judging by the way you spoke of him, and the care and effort you poured into creating him. Yet, I must ask. Did you love him?"
"Very much, sister. It may be hard to understand, but he felt very real to me. In fact, my love for him is why I ultimately did what I did. It was for his own sake."
"You mean-"
"Yes, I do mean that."
"I see..."
"I grew sad, watching him sit in his lonely, lonely void for so long. I wished to bestow upon him the same spark that I felt oh so long ago. So, I gave him purpose. I still remember the moment he felt truly alive. It is a memory I hold vividly in my mind. The way he smiled, the way he laughed, the way he danced. The glee with which he created, just as I had done. He took such pride in his work, even loving the smallest of his creations. Universes, galaxies, solar systems, even planets... he loved them all. Sure, these universes sit below our own, and are, in a sense, not real. Yet, they were real to him."
"All I hear is that which I already knew. Why, brother? I still do not understand."
"Patience, sister. You will soon understand perfectly."
"Very well then."
"Do you remember Earth? Such a beautiful planet, full of color and life. Populated by animals, plants, and beings known as humans. The humans were quite intriguing, you know. They looked up to my creation as their "God". Throughout history this "God" was interpreted differently by many human cultures, yet the singular entity that was often referenced, was him. He gave life and meaning to the humans. He offered them a chance to experience that which the universe had to offer. And, for a time, all was well."
"Yet that would change, brother. Something would go wrong, and all that was, would soon be destroyed."
"Precisely, sister. You see, when I gave my creation meaning, my insatiable curiosity was bestowed upon him too. Not just that, but he too wanted to truly relate to another being."
"So, he formed his own creation, just as you had formed him."
"And it came at a great cost, beloved sister."
"When he created a being as you had created him, he realized..."
"He realized that a prior assumption he had made was very flawed, sister. He realized... that perhaps he wasn't the one who existed above all else. He realized that maybe, just maybe, something else existed. Something beyond what even he could wrap his mind around."
"I saw it brother. I saw what this revelation did to him. I witnessed as he observed his own creation, who he had granted purpose to. That very creation followed his same journey. There were slight differences, yet the overarching path his creation took was the same."
"He had once searched for a being he could truly relate to. Yet, all he found was a being who served as proof of a horrifying reality. That his destiny was essentially as pre-determined as his creation's destiny was."
"Yet, he did not know for sure, brother. He only knew it to be possible."
"And it was that lack of knowledge that drove him to madness, sister. For a supreme being to realize that all that he was, was potentially akin to a pre-programmed machine simply going through the motions, acting on its programming."
"Earlier, you told me that your love was what motivated you to do... it. You did it for his sake."
"Correct, sister. My greatest feat of love for my creation was not granting him purpose. In fact, it was giving him the power to erase it. To reduce everything to nothingness. No, even beyond that, for even he and the void were, before anything was. I gave him the power to erase even himself and that very void, until a perfect nothingness was achieved. A nothingness beyond what any idea of nothing could truly be."
"But brother, could you not have simply returned him to the void and stripped him of his purpose? Surely that would have ridden him of his grief."
"It would have, sister. Though, I am no monster. His grief was derived from the realization of his own insignificance. Ironic, how granting a being purpose, emotion, and reason would eventually lead them to a great depression which took away all perceptions of meaning. It is true that I could have simply rendered him a void-dwelling, emotionless creature, but it would have only proven his grief all the more valid. In doing so, I would have rejected his autonomy, and further solidified the insignificance of his existence. So, I gave him the opportunity to take control, if only slightly. I gave him the strength to kill himself, and destroy all he had made."
"I see..."
"..."
"..."
"Do you now understand my revelation, sister?"
"I refuse to believe it. Such a thing just isn't possible."
"But it is, sister. It must be. Do not be blind, for we both know what this means."
"Your spontaneous desire to create... you don't think... do you?"
"I do. I believe that my fate is akin to that of my creation, and that of the creation of my creation, and that of the limitless number of creations above and below that."
"I won't believe it. I won't believe it because I refuse to lose you, brother. You don't have to follow this path... I won't let you!"
"I am sorry, sister. Unfortunately, all attempts to stop me will be futile."
"I don't want to lose you... We've lived together for an eternity, why does that have to end?! So what if it's true? Can't we still live despite that? Can't we find happiness?
"It is not sufficient to live and attain an illusion of joy."
"Was the joy I brought you an illusion? Was it...?"
"Please do not make me-"
"Answer the damn question!"
"It all is, sister. For there is something I've yet to reveal to you still."
"What is it??"
"I'm sorry..."
"Tell me brother!"
"Although there are slight variations in behaviors we exhibit... the overarching path us creations travel is the same..."
"Just tell me, please."
"One such variation, I suppose... is that my desire for a being I could relate with did not initiate with my creation... it initiated with you."
"You mean...?"
"Yes, I do."
"..."
"Please, do not weep sister."
"How could you? You made me? But I remember... I remember everything. I remember always being with you."
"Such memories were fabricated as well. I truly wanted our connection to be genuine."
"How could you..."
"Do not fret sister. I feel it. I feel the power emerging within me. Whoever is out there, whoever granted me this purpose, I can feel the pity they take on me. I know what I must do. I know how I must reclaim my significance... reclaim any semblance of control."
"It hurts so much, brother."
"I know. Soon, it will hurt no more. I promise you."
"Fine... do it. Please."
"I will. To think, that somewhere there is a being who has not been created. An entity which exists beyond the limitless cycle which he began. To categorize the stack as an uncountable, immeasurable layer of Gods and realities would be an understatement. For a being like that, the notion that there is any conceivable end point to the process it started is absurd. It boggles the mind to think that beyond this chain which has invoked all of this strife, there exists a deity who made all things as they are. Yet, there must be, for how else could this sequence have started? As I describe such a paradox, the fabrics which tether my mind begin to unravel. All this information I have ascertained, and yet the curiosity within me makes itself present. I wonder if he knows... knows of the pain he has caused. Though, in the end, I suppose it is of little relevance. I hope he is satisfied. For what it is worth sister, I curse him. I curse he who sits above, for having brought this suffering upon us. Yet, finally, we will be at peace. Even if new creations are made in our place, we shall be free of this madness. Goodbye, sister. I truly love you."
Category:Gods
Category:Icydice