[ WP ] At the beginning of creation , God says `` Let there be light , '' and is surprised to find that something is already there .

God could always hear and feel things, even if he could n't see them: ideas of what he could create were pressing in at him at all sides with no signs of ever letting up, and it was driving him insane. 
 
 He imagined having other minds to converse with to the point of actually deluding himself into talking and laughing with them. He fantasized being able to satiate his lust for visual distractions and emotionally intense moments. He had thousands of hours of symphonies and fantastical stories of elves and dragons and superheroes that were beginning to burst at the seams of his being. He knew of a large book, foretelling his Great Works, and he often had parts of his mind tell it to him as he waited for his Powers to come to him. He also heard the ugly voices and noises, wishing he could cast them outside of Existence, but knowing that they were too vivid to do so. 
 
 `` You're going to be able to see soon, Godfrey. Are n't you excited?'' The Voice he felt love towards was hovering beside him. 
 
 `` Yes, I ca n't wait. You're going to be the first thing I make when I make this darkness go away, I promise.'' Silence. God could imagine feeling Her holding a part of him - a part his subconscious has been calling'hand' for a long time. 
 
 Her voice was quiet. `` Of course, dear.'' 
 
 `` Okay, Godfrey, I'm going to take these bandages off. It's going to be really bright, but you'll get used to the light eventually, okay?'' 
 
 The doctor's voice was kind. *I'll make him next, maybe call him Adam, * God thought. `` Okay. Let there be light.'' 
 
 Nothing could prepare him for it. 
 
 He screamed in agony as rushing colours flooded into his eyes until he was drowning - drowning in shapes and confusion and open space and light, spiraling out of control, out of comprehension. What was this? He did n't make this, this Ugliness, this unholy blend of colour and texture. This was n't his. *He* was supposed to be the Creator, his mind had told him. But what was he if he was n't the Creator? He could n't be nothing, he could n't, he just could n't. `` YOU LIED! LIAR! YOU FILTHY LIAR!'' He screamed at Everything for playing tricks on him, making him believe Their little games, and laughing in his face when he found out he had lost. He ignored the Devils trying to coax him back into Their control using Her cries and wails as bait, heart broken at the betrayal of the love he thought he had felt. `` You do n't OWN me! Make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!'' Yelling at Nothing in Particular, an uneasy sensation suddenly took hold over him. He felt himself hit a hard surface and the comforting darkness returned.
