Six days.

It took his body six days to sink to the bottom. When it softly landed on the ocean floor, and he stirred from his meditative state, he knew what he wanted.

What he needed.

Life. 

Stretching the arms, cracking joints, he began to construct his vision. For an eternity, the dance had always been the same. 

Unparalleled focus. 

A vibrant, grand mass of light. A sun to call their own.

Planets of every color and size, ripe for the discovering. Stars to mystify his children for when they gaze into a midnight sky. 

Satellites to place feet upon.

And finally a home. A home much like his own.

But it all felt different.

Except he had hope for them. These people soon to be. His creation. He hoped that they would break away from his design; it would surely not differ greatly from that of his kin. He hoped that they would be better in some way. Any way.

His voice soothed the black water surrounding him, lulling it to rest.

Focus.

Unparalleled focus. 

He created their ocean. Their green grass. Their trees. The animals, and people.

And he knew them each by name. 

Two turned into three, and three became four. And soon they inhabited his whole world. They lived full lives--each and every one. 

He was invisible to them. And yet they named him. In various tongues, in various symbols, they named him. Some believed strongly. That he would save, that he would punish. Some didn't believe in him at all.

The speed of time quickened. Decades passed by in milliseconds. His tired eyes would blink, and those he had grown to know and love had passed away. 

A muscle would twitch, a finger would move, and hundreds would perish. Thousands. Millions. 

His world was sensitive. Vulnerable. Weak. 

Beautiful. Through the suffering and the joy, through the triumphs and the failures, his creation was absolutely beautiful. 

Their chests would heave as breath--life--filled their small lungs. Eyes looked up into the night, right into his, without even realizing it.

They were selfless. They were honest.

They lied. They stole. They murdered.

But above all else, they were beautiful.

They were no different than he was.

No different.

And it was through all of this that he understood what he had to do.

He had to go back.

To the surface.

To civilization.

He had to look into the midnight sky one last time. 

He had to look into the invisible eyes of his creator and let him know that he understood.