In the beginning, there was nothing.
No stars, no wind, no time. Just a huge, silent darkness stretching out forever in every direction. Not cold, not warm. Just... still. Like everything was holding its breath.
Then, without warning, something flickered. A small glow. Soft and quiet, like the first light of dawn peeking through the cracks. It didn't explode or scream into existence. It just was—a single light blooming gently in the endless dark.
That light started to move. Not like fire or lightning. It flowed—calm and steady—like a breeze over still water. And from within it, a shape began to form. Slow and smooth. No edges. No face. Just pure, living light.
This being wasn't loud. It didn't roar or command. It drifted. Existing quietly, like it had been sleeping for a long time and had just woken up. Every pulse of its light felt like a breath, soft and slow, stretching out into the silence.
It didn't speak, but there was a feeling coming from it. A kind of wonder. Like it was looking around and thinking, "So this is what it feels like to be here."
The darkness didn't push back. It just watched. And the light kept growing, not in size, but in presence. The space around it started to change—not with sound or movement, but with mood. The stillness felt less lonely. Less empty. Like maybe, for the first time ever, something mattered.
Then something stirred again.
The light pulsed—once, strong—and from its center, another glow began to bloom. This new light was soft and warm, a little different from the first. Where the first was clean and sharp, this one felt smooth, like silk wrapped in sunlight.
It grew slowly, like a flower opening. And the first being leaned toward it—not physically, just... drawn in, curious.
From the new light, a second shape formed. Just like him, it didn't have a face or voice. But it felt different. Feminine. Calm, graceful. Her light moved like waves, gentle and beautiful, wrapping around itself like a dream drifting through the void.
He watched her quietly.
Even though he had no eyes, you could feel it—that awe. That surprise. Like he didn't know he had been waiting until she appeared. She turned slightly, and their lights touched—just barely. A shimmer passed between them. No words, no names. Just presence. Just connection.
She didn't flinch. Instead, her light moved toward his, slow and careful. Like she was reaching out with her whole being.
He responded without hesitation. His light swelled, brighter but still soft. And they met—not with sound, but with rhythm. Their pulses matched. Slow, steady. Like hearts beating in sync.
They just floated there, side by side, like stars dancing in the dark.
There was no rush. No need to speak. Everything they felt was flowing between them through every flicker and shift in their light. Curiosity. Comfort. Joy. And something deeper, quiet and pure, blooming slow and strong—like love, even though neither of them had ever heard the word.
For a long time, they just moved together. Their lights circling, brushing, blending. They started to create shapes in the dark—ribbons of light, slow swirls of color. The void began to glow with their presence, soft and steady. Like watching two flames twirl without ever burning out.
And then... something changed.
They paused, light still touching, still twined together. Something unspoken passed between them—a shared thought, a shared dream. They looked out into the dark.
And they imagined something more.
Not just drifting. Not just glowing.
Something real.
A place.
Their lights grew stronger. Not wild, but focused. Clear. They poured their energy into that shared vision, and the dark around them responded. It twisted, cracked, and then opened wide—like space itself had been waiting for this moment.
And from their light, a city began to form.
Silver towers rose high, glowing like moonlight on still water. Wide halls shimmered with quiet peace. The whole place sparkled, not like gold or diamonds, but with that same soft light that had once drifted alone in the void. It wasn't just beautiful. It felt right. Like it had always been meant to exist, just waiting for them to imagine it.
They moved through it slowly, their lights casting reflections on silver walls. Every inch of the place held their touch—their joy, their quiet laughter, their love.
This was the first home.
The Silver City.
They didn't stop there.
Their lights joined again, brighter than before, and from that bond came something new. Sparks of light broke off—small at first, like fireflies in the dark. But each spark grew, shaping into new beings. Wings unfolded. Eyes opened.
The angels.
Each one unique, but all of them carried a piece of the two who created them. Some were quiet, full of peace. Some burned bright with strength. Some danced through the city like music made real.
The city came alive.
Laughter echoed in the halls. Light stretched far beyond the towers, spreading into the far reaches of the void. Creation had begun, not with thunder or war, but with love.
The two original lights watched from the heart of the city, side by side, their lights still touching, still pulsing with that quiet rhythm they had always shared. No names. No titles. Just... them.
Together.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to. Their creation spoke for them. The city. The angels. The warmth in the void.
A family born from light.
Born from love.
And it was only the beginning.