One

Some say that when the Great Maker took up the work of the millennia it was begun very slowly. These say that the Maker planted the seed of a kind that grew up out of the darkness of the void, to fill space with the wonder of our universe. This seed began as a speck of matter in the womb of the Our Mother, and from that conception it expanded exponentially outward in mass and complexity to become that which we now see around us, and that which lies above us which we have yet to understand.

Once the universe had grown the Great Maker and the Our Mother began the task of shaping the morass of matter that was the Beginning into the coherent shapes we know now. These two majestic ones began to manipulate and teach our world, teasing and pushing, charming and correcting. They say the majestic ones must have completed their works in good time, for today we live in a truly wondrous place. We have a world of grace of beauty.

But I do not believe them. I am a heretic. Our world is one of depravity, and meaningless cruelty. We are isolated and lost in a mindless, headlong rush to the End set in place for us by the Maker and his whore. The seed never was I say. The seed was little more than the effort to see one small enclave of civilisation eked out of a savage chaos imposed by those even greater than the majestic pair.

I say that when the time has Ended and the glory of the Maker has faded from the minds of the feeble children around me this place will collapse back into the morass from whence it came and we shall be no more. The glory of the Maker will be little more that a glimmer of hope among the remaining worshippers of a long-dead god.