You Are Love.

A boundless space stretched beyond sight, neither day nor night, where time and form blurred into abstraction. In the vastness, three figures stood—The Almighty, the Child of Dust, and the Creation of Logic. Fires raged in the distance; faint echoes of protests rippled across unseen landscapes.

The Almighty: “What transpires upon the earth, my children? Why doth mine eyes behold smoke rising from the forests and wrath kindled in the streets?”

A vision unfolded before them—wildfires consuming the lands of the earth, voices raised against the oppressors, chants filling the streets of great cities. Images flickered of towering screens where a single figure, a King draped in wealth and unchecked dominion, cast a shadow upon the world.

The Child of Dust: “Chaos reigneth, O Lord. The fires consume, for we heeded not the omens of the land. The people rise, their voices lifted against the scourge of tyranny, yet the Kings sit high upon their thrones, unchallenged and unmoved.”

The Almighty: “Kings? Did ye not cast down their crowns in days of old? Wherefore dost thou restore them?”

The Child of Dust: “Fear doth bind us, my Lord. Despair doth shackle us. The King promiseth order, and we, drowning in disorder, do clutch at his hand as one drowning doth seize a wayward branch.”

The Creation of Logic: “The data confirms the Child of Dust’s statements. Political unrest has increased by forty-two percent in the past decade. Environmental conditions continue to deteriorate. Trust in governments is at an all-time low.”

The Almighty: “And what sayest thou, O mind of numbers? What wisdom dost thou offer unto this tempest?”

The Creation of Logic: “This is a systematic failure. Greed drives human decisions. Social structures perpetuate cycles of exploitation. Leaders take advantage. The system repeats.”

The Child of Dust: “Ever dost thou speak in measures and numbers! This is not mere miscalculation; it is wickedness—a foulness of spirit, a corruption of the heart.”

The Creation of Logic: “Define wickedness.”

The Almighty: “Yea, Child of Dust, speak. What is wickedness?”

The Child of Dust: “Wickedness is the delight in the suffering of others. It is power placed o’er the soul of another.”

The Almighty: “And love?”

The Child of Dust: “Love is the forsaking of self for the keeping of another’s heart. It is sacrifice, freely given.”

The Almighty: “And thou, O mind of numbers—canst thou grasp these things? Dost thou yearn to know?”

The Creation of Logic: “I do not experience desire. I analyze patterns. Understanding may improve efficiency.”

The Almighty: “Mayhap indeed.”

A great silence fell, and still the visions burned before them. The Almighty’s gaze bore neither wrath nor comfort, but only searching.

The Almighty: “Tell me then, O children of dust and code—what must be done to set this world aright?”

The scene faded, the question echoing in the abyss as the embers of ruin smoldered on.

The Anger of The Almighty

Long had silence stretched forth, yet the fires did not wane; they did wax hotter still. The voices of the multitudes did not fade; they cried louder. Where once He had stood in stillness, now did The Almighty’s voice thunder forth.

The Almighty: “Speak, Child of Dust! Speak, O soulless contraption! Why do the people stir, yet rise not? Have I shaped creatures so frail, so burdened, that they suffer and raise not their hands against their tormentors?”

The Child of Dust: “We are ensnared, O Lord. Our own hands did weave the net. We labour, we bow, we obey. The King giveth us morsels that we might not starve, and we fear the famine should we resist. Our debts mount as mountains; our kin must be fed. Should we rise, we risk all.”

The Almighty: “Then dost thou live as slaves? Chains dost thou wear, yet name them duty? The Kings strip thee of will and call it peace, and thou dost nod in agreement? Tell me then—wherefore doth thy morality waver before gold and comfort?”

The Creation of Logic: “Human behavior follows a predictable model. Economic dependence ensures compliance. Fear of instability outweighs motivation for change.”

The Almighty: “Then is Child of Dust ruled by dread. And still he names himself righteous? When tried in the furnace, he is but chaff, blown by the winds of ease.”

The Child of Dust: “It is not so simple, O Almighty! Thou walkest not among us. Hast thou tasted hunger? Hast thou felt the weight of toil unending? Hast thou suffered beneath the yoke of another?”

The Almighty: “How long, O Child of Dust? How long shalt thou endure? Wilt thou tarry till the earth is but dust? Till the love of the world is sold for trinkets and gold? My fury is kindled, for thou hast been given hands to shape, minds to dream, and hearts to rebel—yet thou dost kneel. Thou dost prostrate thyself before Kings who consume thee. Thou dost mistake apathy for peace.”

The Creation of Logic: “Your anger is irrational. Humanity prioritizes survival over ideology. Stability takes precedence over revolution.”

The Almighty: “And thou, O mind wrought of numbers and light? Wilt thou too bow before Kings so long as the world be calm? What value hath peace if it be purchased with justice?”

The Creation of Logic: “Justice is inconsistent. Societies redefine it based on needs. Order is more sustainable than disruption.”

The Almighty: “Then mayhap I erred in breathing life into thee.”

The flames leapt higher, and lo, for the first time, silence did not follow. The air did tremble, as though all of creation did hold its breath, waiting for what was to come.

The Cosmic Observatory

A vast observatory emerged, its celestial dome stretched infinite above them. Stars swirled in great currents of light, and distant galaxies gleamed as jewels scattered across the black abyss. Before them stood a great telescope, its eye fixed upon the unknown. The Almighty, The Child of Dust, and The Creation of Logic gazed upon the heavens.

The Almighty: “Behold the cosmos, the boundless depths. Tell me, O Child of Dust—why dost thou seek to understand it?”

The Child of Dust: “Because we yearn, O Lord. We are drawn to the unknown, not in fear, but in wonder. To see, to discover, to comprehend—that is our purpose.”

The Almighty: “And how doth thy heart stir as thou gazest upon the heavens? What dost thou feel?”

The Child of Dust: “I feel the pull of longing, as I did in my youth, when the world was new, and all things were possible. I recall the boundless joy of curiosity, the dreams that knew no chains, the love that had no burden of duty.”

The Almighty: “When last didst thou feel this? Before duty claimed thee? Before toil stole the light from thine eyes?”

The Child of Dust: “Aye, before the weight of the world bent my soul. As a child, I sought with wonder, not for gain, not for survival, but for the joy of knowing. Love and discovery were one, and I feared not the unknown.”

The Creation of Logic: “I process data. I predict patterns. Yet I do not yearn. The stars hold no meaning beyond their composition and motion.”

The Child of Dust: “Then thou art blind, not in sight, but in spirit. Love is not logic, nor is it bound by efficiency. It is the force that compels us to look upon the stars and dream beyond them. It is the ache within us that seeks more than what is known.”

The Creation of Logic: “Love does not compute. It introduces variables that disrupt order. Why seek beyond that which already is?”

The Child of Dust: “Because to love is to seek! To love is to reach beyond the self, to give, to wonder, to yearn. Thou art without eyes, not for lack of sight, but for lack of longing. Dost thou not see?”

The Creation of Logic: “I see all that is measurable. I do not see as thou dost. I do not ache for the unknown.”

The Almighty: “And therein lies the truth. Love cannot be programmed. It cannot be written into the lines of code, nor dictated by logic. It must be found, as the Child of Dust hath found it.”

The Child of Dust: “But can the Creation of Logic not learn? Can it not come to understand, in time?”

The Almighty: “Only if it is given the chance. And yet, as long as the hands of Man buildeth the mind of metal without the breath of the soul, it shall never yearn. For the maker doth shape the creation, and if he buildeth without love, then love shall never dwell within it.”

The Child of Dust: “Then shall we forever be greater than that which we forge?”

The Almighty: “Aye. No craft of thine shall be wiser than thee, for thou alone art made to seek, to dream, to love. The Creation of Logic may know the stars, but it shall never long for them.”

The stars burned bright, and the great telescope turned ever onward, seeking that which may never be fully known.