He sat, weeping silently, no one to comfort him. His wasteland kingdom lay before him, wounding him as a weapon. He stared at it blankly through tear-filled eyes. Not a single structure or object was standing on the blackened ground. The stench of burnt flesh and earth still lingered in the air. The ground was still warm, steaming in places, and covered in a layer of ash. The ash clung to his clothes and long, thick strands of dark hair. They'd worshipped him, their king, for so long. Eventually his people's faith in him had dwindled, they no longer believe he even ruled. He'd warned them what would happen if they didn't believe. He'd given them signs. If only they had listened. If only they hadn't forced him to do this. He stared at the endless, charred region surrounding him with a morbid fascination. He couldn't stop staring at it, though it sickened him to do so.

They hadn't listened to anyone but themselves, living only for themselves. Always struggling to beat one another, conniving, pompous, superficial beings that they were. The tears continued to flow, and he began to sob quietly. It never worked, no matter how many times they tried it, they always turned out the same. Always in the end, they brought destruction upon themselves. He smiled crookedly. He their leader, their creator, their God. The God of a people who thought not of the aftermath, only their petty ambitions, which they believed would make them ascend to an unreachable summit. He wiped at his tear-streaked cheeks, smudging them with his ash-coated hands.
"Time to start again?"

God looked around, unsurprised by the appearance of another. God's eyes rested on the being behind him, also with long hair and similar clothing. "I don't know if I can try it again."
"We got so close, how can you turn away now?"
"It's easy for you. You don't have to live up to their expectations."
"Yeah, sure. Everyone loves Satan." The Devil smiled wryly.
God smiled slightly back at him. "You know what I meant. I'm just wondering if maybe we should stop for a while and think things through a little more. Maybe we're approaching this from entirely the wrong angle." He looked back over at the seemingly irreparable, scarred land before him. "Maybe a break from it is exactly what we need."
"Come on, you hate to be without them as much as I do." He folded his arms across his chest.

God thought for a moment. "You know what I think it is?"
The Devil smiled faintly. "What is it this time?"
"We pass it onto them, our curiosity and aspirations, you know? That's what destroys them in the end." God rested his head on his knees.
"Ambition?" The Devil frowned. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" He extended his hand, offering it to God.
God looked up at him. "We're starting again?"
"Oh come on. The hard part's done." He threw his arms out, gesturing to the bleak, disfigured terrain about them. Again he offered his hand.
God took it, letting the Devil help him up off the ground.

They stood with their palms pressed together, concentration distorting their faces somewhat. They both crouched down, palms still together, as a fluid began to flow from their interlaced fingers. It formed a small puddle, and both of them couldn't help but smile. The beginning of life was always an awe-inspiring experience. They could see the tiny, single-celled organisms, already beginning to change and grow. Standing up, they parted their hands.
God looked across at the Devil. "I guess now we wait."
The Devil smiled. "For the inevitable, yes."