By Declan Quinn.  For the “the two stood face to face” prompt.

The two stood face to face, frozen in their little moment in time.  There they stood, a sharp outcrop of black against the bleak white backdrop.  It was like standing in a white room, except that the walls, floor, and ceiling didn’t exist.  Nothing existed, except for the two, standing against the passing of time, the infinite of space, confined to their own little corner of their own universe.

One was tall and lanky, and had an unmistakable presence, not unlike an entity in a twisted sense.  Is entity a fair word for something that controls nothing?  Or, if there is nothing to control, does it control everything, thus deeming it worthy of the title?  Semantics are wasted.  This one seemed like the beginning of everything, if there was anything else in their cardboard cutout of reality.  Tall, and dominant, reminiscent of everything to come, and everything before it, it stood patiently.

The other one stood short and stout, but still gave off an aura of great power.  If the first one gave off the presence of the beginning of everything, this was the power to fight that dominance.  Opposing all in the face of certain failure was second nature to it.

But the two were not there to pit ideals against ideals.  No, their goal was not so petty.  They were simply face-to-face because that was how they had begun existing.  Rather anticlimactic, isn’t it?  A small distance did separate the two, however.  Or was it a great distance?  Measurements held no meaning to them, the ones who occupy the dimension that only they know.  Whatever distance separated the two was covered by a great fissure, as black as the others.  The great split between the two commanded the attention of all the life forms that didn’t inhabit the white wash.  Its existence seemed to change the importance of the other two, bringing them new meaning that even their placement in the bleak space couldn’t define for them.  Without the crevice, the two would just be that, nothing more.  They’d exist, sure, but without meaning, without purpose.  And what kind of existence is that?  But the great black line that separated the two – no, the entire fabric of reality? – gave them new meaning.  New ways to see, maybe, but how many ways can one really see an endless white?

But, as is natural, time passed, and infinite ran its course.  And again, and again, and again.  See, the universe has an interesting way of dealing with itself.  When something’s time has come, it can go one of two ways.  The first way is rather boring – with a whimper.  It just happens.  That’s it, nothing more.  One might be lucky if it affected someone on the other side of time.  The second way is arguably more entertaining – with a bang worthy of the beginning of universe itself.  This kind of end-all lives up to its own piece of existence, and will live up to its name in history.

It happens to all, but in this moment these two (plus one)’s time had come.  It wasn’t a big ordeal – but it was somewhat remarkable.  Space-time itself opened, and two more fissures opened up, right beside the first (second?)’s existence.  They weren’t large, sure, but they still held great importance.  If the first fissure gave the two meaning, the other two brought this meaning into the plane of reality, almost a tangible thing.  It’s hard to comprehend existence on multiple levels, but with the new seams in the blaring white, new life had been brought to the two that had previously simply existed.

It started slowly at first.  A low whine, slowly rising in pitch, began from the beginning of time and rushed itself to the present.  It built in volume, until it became a catastrophic crescendo of the cosmos colliding.  And then, as if in protest, the ivory void began swelling with silver light, infinitely expanding the color spectrum of what was once just black and white.  Growing, the glow expanded like a cloud filling with rain, waiting to release its downpour upon the world below.  But of course, that’s implying there’s a world to rain on.  If the cloud simile indeed stands, it could be said that lightning blue arced within the grey gloom, spurring on a raging storm that could have shattered this snapshot of time, if it existed in the first place.

The fog and the fair battled on, but the mist’s mission wasn’t to win.  The achromatic world flared, and nothing could be seen for the intense white that bathed this plane of reality.

Eventually, after an impossibly long but irrationally short period of time, the brightness started to fade.  Slowly at first, but its rapid ascension back to a balanced state picked up as time did or did not pass.

Slowly, a shadow appeared in contrast to the blizzard of blinding light.

Its edges became more defined as the light dimmed.

It came into focus.

And then there was one.

2 – 1 = 1