Anima Divinitas

The Creator sat alone, in a vast, timeless Universe.

Everything within it, from the largest galaxy to the smallest sub-atomic particle, behaved exactly as intended, perfectly conforming to the physical laws that defined it.

The Universe was magnificent, it was glorious, it was predictable.

The Creator could never be surprised. Nothing could ever act in a way that she did not expect. No electron ever altered its spin on a whim, no comet changed its course without reason.

The Universe was beautiful, and boring.

The problem was that she knew everything. Her memory was as perfect as her knowledge. She could remember the first instant of the beginning of time, and she could predict, with complete accuracy, every detail of every event that would ever take place.

She alone, in all the Universe, could change the future. Everything else that existed merely acted and reacted to the forces around it, in precisely the way it was supposed to.

And so, the Creator introduced life. Birth, reproduction, death, a whole new set of laws governing how life interacted with itself and with the rest of the Universe.

Life was new. Life was interesting. At first.

The problem was that she still knew what was going to happen. Plants and animals, evolved and changed, but she knew every form they would take. She knew which species would thrive and which would die out. She knew what life would still exist on each planet on the day its sun finally faded out.

Life was more complicated than her other creations, but everything it did was still determined by its nature. It could not choose to do otherwise, because it could not choose.

Only she was capable of choice.

Then she had an idea, a wonderful, exciting, frightening idea, and she realised that for the first time in all of existence, she was afraid.

The Creator splintered herself, shattering into billions of fragments, and scattering them out into the Universe.

These fragile, autonomous entities were nearly powerless, but they possessed the spark that had been missing. They could choose.

Everything they touched was changed. They did wonderful things, and terrible things. They built great empires, created wondrous art, and perpetuated horrible cruelties.

They constantly shaped, and reshaped, the Universe. They were unpredictable, and as long as they existed, the future was eternally mutable and unknowable.

They were born, they died, and were reborn, never knowing more than a hint of their true nature.

The Universe became chaotic, and magical.

"I never expected this!" the Creator laughed, in a multitude of tiny voices.