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Re-creation

Re-creation

The two Gods stood on the rocky cliffs and watched the turbulent ocean boiling below. They had taken human form and both were naked. One was a muscular, black-skinned man. His enormous phallus dangled flaccidly half-way down his thigh. The other was an oriental woman. She was petite with pert breasts and was totally without hair.

“The first people stood here and watched the tall ships come. They had lived in perfect balance for fifty thousand years. The Europeans destroyed their society and then themselves in less than five hundred years,” she said.

The man laughed. It was a deep and throaty laugh, reminiscent of a big motor bike revving up. “Was your side or mine responsible for sending them? I forget.”

“It could have been either of us. There is only one thing we agree on; that The Balance is abhorrent,” she said.

He laughed again. “Two things, I hope,” he said. “We haven’t communicated directly since we negotiated aboard the Ship of Souls when this cycle began. It is a momentous day. His phallus twitched and began to swell somewhat.”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I enjoyed the way humankind destroyed itself, but my existence has been very boring since they became extinct,” he said.

“We tried to delay it, so they would have time to develop the technology to leave the planet,” she said.

“They were too busy building the technology that destroyed them.”

“How long ago was it?” she asked.

“Around a million years.”

“No wonder you are bored.” She winked at him and his phallus swelled some more and rose to the horizontal.

“The Earth’s climate has now recovered sufficiently to support human life again,” he said. “If we work together, you and I, we can recreate humans.”

She smiled and licked her lips. “What does The Balance think?”

“Who cares? You can lay down rules for them. I can teach them how to lie, kill, cheat, and break all the rules. The Balance can try to moderate us as it has always done.”

“Our children,” she said.

“Our children,” he agreed and his enormous cock stood proud against his belly.

“Our coupling is purely symbolic,” she said.

“Symbolic but essential,” he replied.

And the Earth shook from the exertions of their union. After six days they rested. And a second Anthropocene Epoch began. And the pestilence that is humankind once again began to spread across the face of the planet. And they were both pleased.

“It was an interesting experience,” he said, “But now we must return to the endless war between us.”

“Our children will do us proud, I have no doubt,” she said.

And they parted, never again to meet in this cycle of the Cosmos.

But their symbolic coupling turned out to be anything but symbolic. Never in a thousand cycles had a God had a child (discounting virgin births), and even the thought of a baby conceived by a God of Law and a God of Chaos is anathema.

Nevertheless, nine months after the coupling, Somorllia gave birth to a boy. He was a squat, ugly child with a deformed nose and a shock of black, curly hair.

“He must take after his father,” one of her sister Gods said. “Who is the father? Which of the five great Lords of Chaos impregnated you?”

And Somorllia was forced to admit that she had no idea who the father of this strange, unique being was.

CJA

This is a story from the FirstWorld multiverse of Christopher Jackson-Ash and his muse Kris the Bard.

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