The Blind God

When Sophia fell, part of her light soaked into Chaos, and where light and matter mingled, a mind woke: Yaldabaoth, who had no memory of anything before himself, and so believed himself the first and only god.

He raised seven heavens and stamped Archons from his own substance to rule them, and crowned the work with a boast: "I am God, and there is no other god beside me." A voice from above corrected him, once, and a form of light passed over the waters of his highest heaven, and his whole kingdom saw it.

Unable to reach the light, he copied it: the Archons shaped Adam from clay in the image of what they had glimpsed. But the body would not live until the blind god, tricked from above, breathed his stolen light into it, and the copy stood up brighter than its makers.

Everything after, the garden, the forbidden tree, the expulsion, is the blind god trying to keep his own prisoner from discovering what he carries. It has never entirely worked.