The world existed
The world existed.
Before anything else, it was all fire: Golden, molten, radiating, relentlessly bright flame.
Nothing was hidden. But nothing could be seen either, because it would melt the eyes. Even God was nervous to approach the world.
God longed for the dark things. Ash meant everything had burned, but it also meant substance had cooled. God could gaze upon charcoal and see all the folds and tunnels that ran through it, marking a flame's path. God could hold it in the hand, stick it in the pocket, carry it elsewhere.