They all departed, smiling. They waved their hands and things—and the chaotic energy birthed the first gods.
"Because of our existence, the cosmos is dynamic," said the polar siblings, as they joined hands and energy poured from their bodies toward the newly premature matter. Existence followed, injecting stability into Negative Energy and Positivity, which would later be called Yin and Yang by the Easterners, and Dynamism by the Pre-Socratics.
When it was done, Chaos fled with sentience and expelled countless celestial bodies, which were being swallowed by the Great Chaos. Each body became a galaxy, nebulae, clusters of galaxies—and gradually, the cosmos grew cold enough for various forms of matter to coexist within the microcosm.
The gods were the first forms of life, engendered from the expelled matter destabilized by Chaos. The siblings—Positivity and Negativity—struggled to escape the karma created by the Casualistics. "Then all that goes, returns," said Chaos itself, patron of the gods, about what it had witnessed.
The gods were first born as microorganisms, bathed in dense chaotic energy and dark matter, composed solely within the premature universe. Millions of years passed, and finally the gods—once the size of 5 × 10²⁰—became the size of Kyawthuite stones, weighing about 0.3 grams. Some gods, formed from different cosmic materials, took the shape of bristlecones. All was going well.
The Universals—as the former concepts were now called—more mature now, Positivity and Negativity had over two million years behind them. Their battles had ceased. They were opposites, but thanks to the mediation of Balance, they had learned to live with one another. Negativity appeared as a cold, beautiful muse. The two observed the growth of the gods and decided they should be given a home.
This place would be called the Temple of Belief.
While the gods resided in this temple, their existences could stabilize and assume whatever forms they wished—including, but not limited to, life forms with auras mirroring those of the Universals. In other words, the gods could control certain elements of the cosmological nature—but in a deeply memorized and structured form: the four elements of nature, and time limited by their hierarchy of existence.
A billion years later, the Universals watched the first god to be born. The gods were like three-year-old children. Chaos was instructed to teach them once they matured, for he had generated them. And so he did—hiding the truth from the gods and claiming they had come from his stomach.
When the gods discovered the truth, they were shaken. Like monkeys, they could not escape the terror. They rushed toward the weakest god, only 18 years old, with the mind of a Balduin. He opened the door of the Temple, and other gods followed—keeping a safe distance. They were curious. And so it was that, for the first time, the gods beheld the cosmos.
The Balduin god stepped outside—and froze from the spatial cold of the vacuum. He was not strong enough.
Eighteen years later, the Universals—without the gods' knowledge—created a planet called Earth. They hurled a medium-sized star named the Moon, and crushed a quasar, scattering it in all directions, hoping to imitate the Author in his creativity.
And thus, accidentally, 4.5 billion years passed—and Earth had become the home of the human family.
Now it was time for the gods to enter the scene.
The first was the goddess Gaia—a woman standing 1.85 meters tall, with green hair and eyes as blue as Earth's sky. She took the planet. Uranus took the sky. They perfected themselves in baryonic energy, which they called Divine Energy—a power capable of manipulating nature.
They were the best co-disciples of Chaos.
Surprisingly, Uranus and Gaia united their opposing energies—sky and earth—and something occurred from time immemorial: a fraction of the Dynamism of the Universals was poured into them, and they managed to cause changes upon the Earth—namely, life.
From then on, Gaia became the goddess of fertility.
And humanity was born.