The room was spinning.
The handprints were moving again, shifting across the walls of the room, the scenes in them changing and transforming.
I was Creation. I hadn't made this world. I had blown into this universe at the start, and now I would be here until the end, till they took me away to another universe to watch it grow and change and prosper. I was the only one of my kind, the Creators.
Because there could only be one or everything would fall into chaos. Everything would die.
I created the handprints on the wall, each of them their own universes. I shaped them carefully, adding stars, and galaxies.... planets...
I had created it all and I would see it through to the end.
I touched the wall on the right, my hand burning into the fa( )ic of the walls that was reality, the fa( )ic that held everything together, keeping it all from sliding into the Abyss, handprinwhere this universe would be lost forever. I pressed harder against the fa( )ic, the new world beginning to spiral out from where my hand had touched the world.
I walked over to the second of the five walls in the room to look at the Tear. I was scared of the Tear. It was the only thing I had ever been afraid of, but it wasn't terror, only a slight sense of doubt that I felt whenever I went near it. I called it fear, but I didn't know what fear really was. I didn't feel emotions. They were something I lost, something I gave to the people of the world because they had more use for them than I did.
I stared at the Tear. It was larger than it had been. It grew but never seemed to do anything. I pulled at the fab.ric on both sides of the Tear, opening it, trying to see what lay inside. I didn't know. I didn't like the feeling of not knowing-not that I knew what not knowing was.
I put my hand inside, ever so delicatly and felt around.
Nothing was inside the tear. Beginning to feel strange, sort of a coldness around my heart and a strange sensation in my head, I withdrew my hand.
I lay down at the centre of the deep red room again and closed my eyes, trying to see it in my mind. It was deep red, and always in a darker light that made it hard to see, but the handprints added light. The room was perfectly circular, and about thirty or fourty feet square. I didn't know if it was small, or big. It was the only room I had ever known.
It got quiet tiring, being here, day after day after day. I never ate, and slept a fair amount. I had been here for a very, very long time. I had at first tried to keep track of time, by looking at the same handprint every day, which had always shown a clock, but I always wondered if one of them changed it every once and a while. I didn't trust this place. I hadn't ever trusted it.
I walked to the only door in the room. It was the only surface my hands touched without creating a world. It was made of a dark b.rown material with darker b.rown streaks through it.
I touched the handle, turning it slowly. I tried to push it open, but it wouldn't. It never opened.
I yawned and sat down in the middle of the floor, staring up at the ceiling. It had stopped spinning.
I hadn't slept in a very long time. I closed my eyes and everything changed to darkness.
I slowly opened my eyes, blinking to clear the blurriness.
I looked at the Tear. Wider again. I stood and walked over to it. One of the handprints was half inside of the tear. In that world, the lights in the homes were dark.
That fear-but-not-fear feeling returned. I tapped my foot anxiously against the floor. I walked over to the door. I turned the handle.
It was the 4,380th day that the door was opened. I stepped out of the door into a white room with white lights. It was too ( )ight. I couldn't see a thing.
"Creation," someone said. I tried to open my eyes, but it was still too ( )ight. "Do you know where you came from?"
Was the person talking to me? I blinked again and looked up at the person. it was a young man with dark b.rown hair. "Do you know where you came from?" He asked again.
"Are you talking to me?"
"Yes. Yes I am."
"I'm not supposed to leave that room-I have to go back. I have to stay there until this universe ends."
"We're doing something else this time," the man said.
"No," I said angrily. "We can't do it differently. I'm a Creator, and you're just a stupid human."
The young man snorted. "I'm not a human."
I looked at him angrily. "Are you one of the ones from... before me?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes. Yes, I am from before you."
"Why are you changing this?" I demanded. "This has worked for billions of years, and now you want to change it? Why? What's wrong with this method?"
"Creation, don't be foolish. You've seen the Tear," he said.
"Of course I have," I muttered. "I'm not blind. I spend my entire day in that room. I'm not going to miss a massive rip in the fa( )ic."
"Do you know what is beyond that tear?"
I scowled. I hated it when people knew more than me. People never knew more than me. They shouldn't know more than me. I was their creator. "No," I spat, almost smaking the man.
"Oblivion," he said. "If that tear gets any larger, Oblivion will win."
"Something that was defeated in another dimension. The dimension of the Antekaran."
"This is the only place. This is my world and it's the only one!"
"This is not the only place. Stop acting like a child. Oblivion was banished by the Antekaran, but Oblivion will never rest. It has come here. And it will try to defeat you."
"Nothing can defeat me. I am the Creator. I am everything."