Eli, a small child with tired eyes, wanders alone between the ruins. The world around him is hollow, every echo reminding him that nearly all life has faded. Eli pauses beside a shattered window, watching a single flower struggle to survive in a crack of broken concrete.

A soft, resonant voice fills the silence—God, unseen but deeply felt. "Child, you may ask for one thing—only one wish," the voice invites, calm and eternal, yet tinged with sorrow. Eli glances up, lips trembling, as the enormity of the offer settles upon him.

"I want it to end," Eli whispers, voice steady despite the weight behind the words. "Start the war that finishes everything. Destroy this Earth. Make a new one—one without pain," he pleads, eyes fixed on the ground. For a moment, the light dims, and even the wind seems to falter.

God, mighty and boundless, feels powerless before such a wish—its honesty, its exhaustion. "Your wish is heard, child. I will grant it, though my heart is heavy," the voice intones, each word resonating with thunder and regret. The light swells, then contracts, as if the universe is holding back tears.

Machines grind to a halt and forests ignite, the world unraveling thread by thread. Humanity vanishes beneath fire and flood, leaving behind only the memory of their time. Darkness settles, absolute and final, as the last embers of civilization fade.

God shapes the new world with care, softer and slower this time. The sky is clear, the soil rich, and hope flickers in the dawn’s early light. "May this new earth be gentler," the voice murmurs into the silence, wondering what the next wish might become.