Light

     Light pricked the darkness.

     No legend knows how long that single spot of light shined out of nowhere, no legend tells whether it was bright or whether it was dim.

     The light vanished, for a time. The darkness that had become worlds continued to exist, unsettled by the existence of the light, for the light was a sign of life—that which the darkness had outlasted, that which the darkness had destroyed. The darkness continued to wait, swirling on itself, violent in its stillness.

     Light shone again, this time brighter. As the universe spirals downwards, so it must begin again once it has reached bottom. The darkness shuddered as the light continued to shine brighter and brighter until almost nothing existed save the light.

     The light vanished still again.

     The darkness was disturbed now. It knew that its existence wasn’t forever, that an end to void would soon come. The darkness could do nothing but wait, tensed to smother the light. The darkness heard, as no ear had heard in many thousands of ages, a sound. The sound of a single word, spoken against the void of chaos. In tongues of ages past, that word was known as “death”.

     And so the darkness died, its place now taken by eternal light. Unending, blinding, the light became the universe, shone until nothing save the purest white existed. Energy pulsed in the light, radiating in all directions from everywhere and nowhere at once. Infinite light in every part of the universe. Where once had been the Earth, there was light, where once had been Orion’s Belt, there was light. Black holes that had been swallowed by the darkness were now replaced with the energy of light. Light was all that existed.

     

It was from here that the universe would yet again begin a downward spiral.