Chapter 265 The Seventh Day
On the seventh day, he decided that it was time to rest. Everything was complete. Everything was the way they should be.
He laid down beside a tree with low-bearing fruit. He merely watched it shine from the dazzling sunlight, smiling to himself as he observed his creations. He was at peace. The following day, his guests will arrive, and they will bask in the glory of this world with him.
But the bright one was not pleased at all.
"They will persecute you. Mock everything you have done, blame you for the wrongs they have committed themselves. They will judge you without even judging themselves."
He merely sighed. "That has not happened yet, my dear."
"But you and I know it will. You and I have the foresight." The bright one insisted. "What is the difference between being benevolent to them and giving them the hell they deserve? You are the one in control. You are the one in power."
"I am alone. That is why." The man said.
The bright one was indignant. "Alone!? What am I, then!?"
He picked the fruit, and inhaled deeply for another argument. "You are different. As you said, you are different from the rest. You are my Muse, the reason why everything is being created. The one that inspired the shape of my creations, the one who keeps me going in this dark and lonesome world." n((0velb1n
He added with pure regret:
"But..... I will be honest and admit that it is not enough. It is not enough that you and I are alone together."
The bright one clenched his fist. "Fine then! Welcome those strangers into your world, mold them from clay and make them believe that they are not just puppets being pulled by a string as thin as spider webs. Make them believe they are no different from the beasts that they hunt and kill, that they are significant inside this infinite space. But...."
He gritted his teeth. "I will not give them light forever. I will give them darkness for half the time they spend in this world. Because if I submerged them in pure darkness, they will get used to it. I want them to seek the light, to seek me out and beg like the inferior lot that they are."
The bright one stomped off, kicking at the pebbles as he left. And the regretful one could only watch him go, build on that resentment.
How is it that the one who gives him joy was also his tormentor? His greatest friend being his enemy? The one who loves him the most to be the one who also hates him the most?
Such was the beautiful duality of Tai Hao.
And besides....
Though he acts like he had accepted his fate to be mocked and hated by the very same humans he served, teh same ones that he created this world for....
He too, does bear some hatred.
Hatred at the thought that it was pointless no matter how much effort he put into his work. He will always be criticized, always misunderstood.
Hatred at the thought that nobody will truly appreciate him, even if they did appreciate his work. Not who he was, deep down. Nobody understood him the same way Tai Hao will, and these humans certainly will not. They merely watch and observe, make guesses at connections that may or may not be there. They can be right and wrong.....
But knowing would never be the same as understanding.
And they will be people who will choose to not know or understand. Who would rather let their mouths run without thinking, who would shout and yell their complaints at the Creator who could not afford to acknowledge them all. Or perhaps....
Who had already resigned to his fate that he will never be able to please all of them.
He closed his eyes, and peered into the world that Tai Hao desired. A world of vengeance, of blood, pain, and sadistic glee.
There were no saints or sinners in this world. Only those who suffer in their ignorance.
No moral code will determine the severity, All of them were equal as they were put into the fire, as rocks were pelted towards them, as they were continuously sliced and sewn and made the toys of beings that were just as malicious as him. Beings that represented the nature of their fears and their flaws.
And from there, the two of them will sit on a throne and watch them all. The humans will see that glowing throne, filled with a thousand eyes that littered the sky like stars.
Eyes that will never leave them, that will follow and gawk on their torment as they run. Run and run as much as they can only to be chased down.
That was a world that Tai Hao would enjoy. That he believed that Creator would enjoy.
And the truth was, a part of the Creator does enjoy it.
But he resisted, still pushing himself to do as the audience pleased. Even if it is repetitive, even if it's unforgiving, cruel, and degrading.
Day by day he would release another chapter of this story. Day by day he will let the trees grow, and children to be born, and for time to move and dance like a circus performer on a tightrope.
Trying to keep everything in balance, even though the Creator himself felt that he would soon lose his balance too.
He will lift the skies from the Earth, push it upwards and die again and again. He will have his corpse be the home of the beings of this world and of his audience.
And they will mutilate that corpse, they will turn his creations into something else entirely.
Do you not understand?
Of course you do not, poor child. So you would have to hear it dumbed down to your level.
The Creator would sacrifice everything just to not be alone. He was willing to play the fool for his love of his creations, and for the love of those who watched it. Who experiences it.
Even him.
Even the bright one. He would slay him, and cast him into the pit. No matter how much he loved him, he would let him go.
Both of them will suffer until perhaps, there will be a merciful end to all of them.
Perhaps one day, the Creator would be too tired and his corpse would collapse from carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps one day, an unprecedented event will cause the world to cease turning immediately. Perhaps one day, Tai Hao will achieve what he wants.....
And destroy the world completely.
Raise hell on those who have mocked the Creator and succumb to chaos and madness. Until those who relish this evil rule over everything and live on forever to torment them.
The Creator opened his eyes. After a while of pondering.....
He merely felt empty, like he could not decide whether he wanted to keep hoping or to submit himself to despair.
For now, he will go on. And he will kill his beloved Muse, his beloved star, this Bright One.
Killing himself slowly and painfully in the process.
And even when he returns, he will do it again and again. Because he had to. Because humanity cannot be in darkness forever, cannot suffer for eternity. There must be a balance to follow, a balance that exists beyond the Creator's will. The Law of Nature.
It has no purpose besides its existence, and it has no biases nor desires. The Law is The Law.
Unlike the Bright One's Weaver. The Law was a weaver with no direction, whose hands only moved without a reason in its own rhythm. One may see it as some other force controlling the weaver, and that force being controlled by another weaver, until it repeats into a cycle of being controlled and not controlled.
And we will never know.
Not knowing was painful, even for the Creator himself.
Poor child, you will never know.
He can only continue performing his tightrope dance. His balancing act. And whether he was praised or insulted, he can only keep going.
Eternity stretches before him, and he wears a frown as he pushes through.
His audience will feel entitled to saying whatever they want without actually understanding. They will destroy his beautiful creations and turn it into something unrecognizable to him. But what he was most afraid of.....
Was that he will be abandoned, and he will have nothing left.
His audience will simply search for something else, another world, another tale. All his dancing was for naught, all his sacrifices and efforts.
And the pain he had caused his beloved Muse....
Would also be for nothing.
That was his own personal hell. And felt like he was living at this moment, he just won't accept it. He just won't stop pushing through, won't accept that he was alone in this world, and will always be alone.
He had nothing. The Creator who only knows how to create his own misery.