There was no darkness.
There was no light.
For darkness requires the absence of light,
and light requires something that wishes to be seen.
Here, there was no wish.
No denial.
No awareness of absence.
This was True Void—
not emptiness,
but the absence of the possibility of existence itself.
It was not silent,
because silence requires sound that could have been.
It was not still,
because motion requires a reference.
True Void did not know it was empty.
And precisely because of that—
it was perfect.