text: To say that the void stretched on forever would be subtly incorrect, as it would imply that the void was a thing, which had dimension and volume, which it did not. Likewise, it was not white, which would imply the existence of light, but it was also not black, which would imply the absence of that same light. The best analog for our minds would be gray, and yet even that would be wrong, because it was not some blend of light and darkness, but rather the total absence of both. We lack words for such ideas, or even the ability to truly comprehend them, so it will have to suffice, for now. They sat there, at the table, alone in the not-gray nothingness that seemed to stretch on for infinity and yet did not even exist. She did not know how many eternities had elapsed since they'd arrived. She’d forgotten. It was mostly irrelevant anyway, as She was outside of time, as was He. “The Others have not yet arrived,” He said, stating the obvious. But then, there was little that was not obvious, after countless eternities of nothing. Only one thing could ever surprise Them, and it was never about conversation with the Other. She sighed in response, the simple gesture a grander statement of Her ennui than anything She might *say.* She paused a mere decade, almost imperceptible, and then shrugged at Her companion. “They said They might be late,” She repeated, for the infinitieth time. After that, there was silence as they sat. The silence was not uncomfortable, they were accustomed to it, but this time it seemed an expectant pause, nonetheless. His face was a mask, still inscrutable to Her mind after all the aeons. Nevertheless, She knew from experience precisely what He would ask, when He finally got around to it. After what felt like an eternity (it was, in fact, two eternities), He finally replied with the inevitable question. “Do you want to play again?” There they were. The words were gentle, a mere subtle suggestion, and yet their invitation was irresistable. Her face displayed the same mask as His did, and yet like Her, He knew exactly what Her response would be. She cocked her head to one side, raising one brow quizzically. "Again?" She tapped Her fingers on the table, pretending to consider the offer. “This time I’m playing The Pure,” She demanded, despite having played The Corrupt for the last several thousand matches, prior to which, well, even They didn’t really remember. It all evened out in the end. When you've played the game an infinite number of times, such streaks were inevitable. He spread his hands in acquiescence and then gestured to the table so She could set up the universe, this time. She looked down at the table, then up into His eyes. For another eternity, what passed between them was expectant, eager, and utterly non-verbal. One corner of Her mouth turned up ever so slightly as she stared at Her companion. She inhaled deeply, then gave a sibilant, seductive whisper on the exhalation. "*Let there be light.