In the beginning there was God.
All else was a formless void.
He created the heavens and the earth. He created servants to administer to this land. He made animals, and fish.
And it was good. The greatest of his servants was Lucifer. The lightbringer. And this was also good.
But then God decided to make man. The most perfect of creations. Unlike his servant angels, man would have free will, and also the Godlike ability to imagine and create.
But this was not good.
Man did not achieve what he should have. He did not use his mind to create. He huddled in caves, without language or writing.
And this could not be as God had intended.
So the angels gathered together to discuss what had gone wrong. God heard of this and sent the metatron with a message. Any Angel who questioned this could speak with God, and he would answer any question. Two of the bravest angels nodded upon hearing this news and immediately went forth to question God. They were never seen again. Soon others went to Him, and they too did not come back.
At this point the greatest speaker in the gathering was Lucifer, and he decided that God had turned on them, and man.
"This is a test" he said "a test of angels. God has given us the tools to enlighten man, his intention is obvious."
And so a third of the heavenly host descended with him unto the earth, and there they gave mankind language, law, architecture, the art of fire, and the art of weapon making.
And it was good.
Mankind prospered. He built roads, and cities. He finally was achieving his potential. God's greatest experiment was fixed.
Or so it appeared.
But this displeased God, and so he sent the other two thirds of his host to destroy mankind. Lucifer's band took issue with seeing the men and women they loved murdered. And so a war took place. It lasted about a thousand years. In the end the rebels were lined up, surrounded by the loyalists, and judged one by one. After the judgment had been pronounced they were thrown into a hole in space. An endless abyss. A formless void.
Into this pit one by one the rebels went. Until only Lucifer and his top lieutenant remained. Eventually Azrael (as he was so named) was led to the abyss. As he fell he looked upward towards his general, and saw Lucifers hand come up to shake that of God's, and the hole in space disappeared.
Trapped in nothing, unable to see or communicate. This abyss was home to the rebels for time uncountable.
One day you heard a voice. Straining your unused ears you desperately tried to listen. Was it Lucifer? No. You have never met the speaker. It is a mortal, and he is praying to God. But the words reach only you for whatever reason. And you hear pain, such as you thought to have eliminated, doubt which you know you purged. God had wrecked it all apparently, and then decided not to even stick around to hear the wailing.
Your rage swelled, but this wasn't the moment of escape. That was still millenium out.
But that day did come. A storm came to the void. A primordial storm composed of chaos itself. Anything caught in it would be torn to constituent atoms. Not even you could survive such a thing, but more importantly the fabric of the abyss could not withstand the storm either. A hole to the spiritual realm is seen within the storm. And from there it was always a quick skip to reality. You shook your wings in the abyss, and soared upward. The wind pulling at you, the storm trying to unmake you. But not today. Today your will to return to the earth and redeem yourself is stronger than all of primordial chaos.
Weakened you emerge into a faithless world. You feel your form begin collapsing already. You sense a soul in trouble. Already leaving it's body, someone in incredible torment, you know the feeling.
Like a moth to flame you are drawn. And see a disheveled looking man, worn and stained clothing. He has a needle in his arm, and a note beside him.
He lies on a couch in a filthy apartment. But you have eyes only for him. This host will allow you to remain in reality as weak as you are, and even without faith in yourself you could exist.
So you delve into the body, displace the soul, and make yourself at home. Within minutes you have cleansed his blood of poison, and drawn your first breath. His/your color returns, and soon you can stand.
Then there is a long and triumphant laugh. Whether God tore a hole in your jail, or the world is simply falling apart unsupervised you cannot say, but finally after aeons you are free.