Jehova stared down at His garden, ignoring the inarticulate anger of His wife, Annath.

“What did you just say?” She asked, struggling to remain calm.

“I AM THAT I AM” He intoned, enjoying the way the humans in His garden shivered and looked skyward. He felt the lightning of their worship crawl through His veins, expanding His perceptions.

“And what of Us?” She asked this time, tears in her voice.

He looked back at His wife, impossibly beautiful even in Her grief. Once He had worshiped Her as a husband, the dimness of the memory bothering Him only a little as another jolt of worship flashed through Him. “You will fade and I will remain, alone to be worshiped,” He said finally.

Her eyes widened with horror as She backed away. “You’re…mad…” She whispered, then disappeared, finally leaving Him alone with His garden.

His craving never abated and eventually His every thought centered around getting more humans to worship Him.

In time He grew to be everything and He drifted so very far away.