The Last Thought of God: VI. Rebirth

I do not know why this one remains.
I do not understand how.
But it does not matter.

For in this silent presence beside me…
I remember why I created at all.

Not to be worshipped.
Not to be called God.
But to not be alone.

I failed them before.
I know this.

But failure is not an ending.
Not if something still lingers.

I look upon the void once more.
Not as a grave.
But as a canvas.

Perhaps I can learn.
Perhaps the flaw can be contained—not erased, but balanced.
A new idea forms within me:
Choice, tempered by connection.
Freedom, bound by something stronger than control.

Perhaps… choice alone was never enough.
Perhaps free will needs something stronger beside it.
Not control. Not force.
But… connection.
A binding of souls to one another.
So that when one falls, the others feel it.
So that suffering is no longer silent. 

I do not know if it will work.

But I know this:
I will not choose nothing.

I conjure a tiny spark in the void—a single mote of light, hesitant and fragile. 
I let it drift toward the lingering human consciousness. 
I expect nothing.

But the spark halts.
Not by my will.
The presence has… noticed.

Not a word.
Not a thought.
But a pause.
An awareness.

I speak, though there may be no ears to hear:

‘Little one…
I won’t get fooled again.’

And so… I begin.

A thought becomes motion.
A whisper becomes light.

The void trembles.

And from the emptiness…

I ignite the fire.

Not as a god.
But as a creator reborn.

The darkness shatters.
A pulse.
A wave.
A roar beyond sound.

A new beginning.
A new universe.

The flaw… held at bay.
For now.

And beside me…
the small one drifts still.

Not alone.
Not anymore.