Absence was such a broad term, one that described Nihil very well. Chaos, in its purest and most absolute form, was the absence of order. Order, in its purest and most absolute form, was the absence of chaos. Control, in its purest and most absolute form, was the absence of freedom. Freedom, in its purest and most absolute form, was the absence of control. Light was the absence of dark, and dark, the absence of light; and so on and so forth. Every primal ideal and concept relied, at its heart, no matter how insignificantly, on the concept of absence.
Nihil knew this, though the fact of the matter is that it disgusted him. Balsis named him the “God of Absence”, a feeble title, one that did not suit Nihil well at all. It was one that mocked him, reminded him that he had a role in almost everything. So it was to be born from nothing. Existence was, after all, borne in the womb that the sacred absence was; it was a child that killed its mother and began to survive within the carcass, the carcass of Nihil.
But Nihil was naught but a lucid ghost of a vague nightmare of a forgotten memory. It was for this reason, that he was omnipresent and omniscient, though he was far from being omnipotent. Balsis and his children, as well as their disgusting creations, existed within the carcass of Nihil, a carcass that his ghost still remained locked in, becoming aware and intelligent. His thoughts existed scattered and infinite. The feeling of something being born within his carcass upset Nihil greatly and it was a feeling that never ceased.
The rotation of the earth, he felt. The movement of every small and insignificant creature, invisible to their disgusting siblings, he felt. The desires and hopes of every creature, he felt. They echoed onward for infinity, never ceasing. It was a painful thing for Nihil to experience, but it never ceased. Instead, it seemed to grow in intensity as Balsis and his children willed ever more into being. Each new creation was yet another piece of the sacred absence being ripped forcibly into this chaotic and disgusting reality.
The worst realization, however, was that Balsis and his children had created intelligent life, then blessed it with freedom, giving it the potential to create. One day, they too might tear the absence asunder. The mere thought of this was enough to upset Nihil. But there was nothing he could do, directly. The most Nihil could do is attempt to pull at the minds of Balsis and his children, and their disgusting creations, attempt to remind them that they were born from nothing, and instill in them his will to force them to return to nothing.
The nothing was, in fact, a beautiful thing. It stretched on for infinity, in perfect order and harmony. The absence knew no spark of diversity, it knew nothing aside from the blissful silence and the endearing order that only nothing could know. But with the disgusting birth of existence and creation, the nothing was tainted, becoming naught but a womb for existence to grow infinitely. It was a strange concept, an infinity being used to grow by a finite thing. In time, one might consider this finite thing to be infinite, but in reality it would never be. If the infinity was finite, then the finite thing could only grow as far as the finite had. But the nothing is a true infinity, whereas existence would always be a finite thing, but with the potential to grow infinitely. This was, in truth, the only thing that allowed Nihil to retain his rage and hopeless ideals thus far. The fact that there would always be nothing, on the outskirts of existence, it comforted Nihil slightly. But the thing that had been building up within Nihil, perhaps building until he could contain it no more, or simply growing infinitely, was the fact that each creation ruined the infinite nothing. He knew all too intimately how it felt to be torn from that nothing, forged into existence. It was a thought that enraged Nihil to no end.
So it was that Nihil went forth, first to one of the beings known as “Man”. His thoughts each regarded the “Man” with disgust and coiled around him, as if they were a snake. Together, they writhed, slowly sinking their imaginary tendrils into the mind of this “Man”. They prodded and poked with an instinctual curiosity, unwillingly adding knowledge of the “Man” into the greater whole. In return, the man was shewn the great nothing in all of its glory. For a moment, he was frightened, as was Nihil. Both the entities seemed to regard one another with fear and hatred, but the thoughts of Nihil scattered once more, again retreating from this place, hoping never to see what came of this so called “Man”. But the man knew Nihil’s truth now, that all came from naught. What he would do with this truth, Nihil cared little to find out. Instead, he attempted to purge the knowledge of the “Man” from his mind, a futile attempt that only served to add to that infinite rage that was boiling within him.
It is a rather somber tale, a being that so desperately wishes to return to the great nothing, becoming enraged because he is unable. But the more enraged he becomes, the more he feels, the more he understands; and the more he understood, the more bound to existence he became and the more bound to existence he became, the more he became enraged. It was an endless cycle, one that would surely ruin Nihil.