This place was so terribly bright, even before the others had perceived the first hint of light. This... what was it they called it? Color? Whatever it was, it disturbed Nihil. There was nothing he could weave, nothing he could do as of now, aside from brood on the recent happenings. His thoughts were scattered about the universe, with no clear point of origin. But without the ability to create, or permanently destroy, Nihil was useless. Instead of watching this foul existence come into being, Nihil attempted to revert himself back into the nothing he was borne from. That proved to be a mistake, seeing as how when he returned to this foul existence, he found himself plagued by new thoughts: thoughts reminding him of how unnatural he was, as well as how wrong it was for him to exist.

Unable, and now unwilling as well, to manipulate the newly created fabric of existence, Nihil was forced to watch as the peace he once knew was torn asunder. Balsis and his children weaved things into existence, knowingly or not destroying everything Nihil had known and held dear. It was like a bad joke, being able to understand what it is to be, and what it is to not be; and loathing the fact that you understand this. This place was loud, bright, and utterly disgusting. His thoughts took on terrible tones, and in time, perhaps they would be the source of hopelessness among many of the lesser beings.

It was not his fault that the perfect order of nothing was tainted, nor was it fault that he was formless and his thoughts scattered seemingly infinitely, thus it was not his fault that his thoughts may take root in whatever Balsis and his children had created. One of his thoughts found itself taking in all that Balsis and his children had done, and he found himself sickened by their creations. Creation was unnatural, though he was helpless to this plight.

Another of his thoughts reached out to find a place devoid of this taint, but even in the places that Balsis and his children had not yet meddled, he found it all too bright, all too loud, and all too crowded. Though the others might not realize it, even in the places they considered empty, there existed some minute trace of something, echoing on for infinity; but Nihil realized it all too well, he knew that here there was no true resemblance of the once infinite absence here.

Nihil’s hopelessness only caused more thoughts to appear. To some, they would become known as Wrath, or Sloth. But to him, it was Envy and Lust. He longed for the infinite nothing to return. Though he did not know it yet, Nihil had already been driven mad by existence. Others might not realize it either, for he was born mad into this feeble thing known as existence. The child of Balsis, Artis his name was, was chaotic and mad. But his madness was nothing like Nihil’s. Hopelessness is what it would become known as, in time. Despair. The word did not matter to Nihil. But they would call the apex of his madness Wrath, for it would manifest as hatred towards the self and loathing of existence. Nihil did not pity the poor souls who would be afflicted by it; instead he would embrace them as those whom had realized the truth.
 
While Nihil was the God of Absence, he would never truly embody it. He was the closest candidate, however, being able to recall true absence and the time before Balsis and his children dared to trespass the sacred absence. But it was also a title that would come to represent the absence of hope and joy that Balsis and his children’s creations would come to know, should they bear witness into the thoughts of the nihilistic and hopeless being. Perhaps one day, should he manage to undo creation and existence, then he would be able to return to that original state of Absence, and truly be the God of Absence. But until that day, he would take on a much more passive role, watching as his thoughts slowly twisted and contorted the very essence of hope into nothing more than a hopelessness that consumed the minds of those lacking the will to ignore it.