A World.
A World made out of red-hot magma. A World with no clear sky, but rather black ash. A World where only destruction remained. A World where only the most damning were to live in. In equivalence, it was Hell on earth. A Creature roamed this earth, one being solid red, with horns that protrude out, a muscular build, eyes as red as the primordial earth itself, and claws that can scrape the molten ground beneath its draconic feet. A Beast that bore multiple signs upon its body, to its legs, to its arms, to its palms, to his very head. A Beast that roared proudly as it stands atop of the wreckage, as it stands atop of this world. A Monster one only describes as a Demon, nay, the first demon of the very world
Satan.
It ruled this primordial world with its obsidian-like fist, where no light was allowed to shine, save for instance the glow that the magma made. The Demon wandered the lands, their devils upon its side. His rule was nothing but pure carnage. His rule was nothing but pure destruction. As a result, there would be another figure to change such a rule. A figure in pure, white light, that stared down towards the primordial creature. A Figure with nothing short but an eye, wearing a white, silk-like robe, with polygonal arms, and a triangle that acts as his head. A Figure that parted the lava as it entered, staring towards the figure.
God Himself.
They simply looked towards one another. No words needed to be uttered, for there was already a clear question made, and a clear answer to arrive: Who should govern this desolate land? The answer came, as both figures would approach each other, fists at the ready, as they fight each other atop of the world. Their strikes connected to each other in such brutal fashion: Cross-ups, Uppercuts, Jabs and Hooks, throws and grapples. They were even ripping apart pieces of their own body, their strikes sending shockwaves across the entire world, their punches echoed into the vast cosmos. The Black sky parted itself to reveal the millions upon millions of stars, the blood they spilled calming the pooling lava that was still burning from underneath their feet. Their battle raged onwards, with the stars passing by as their battle continued, being never-ending. Both parties were wounded heavily, with the Onyx demon bleeding out from his skin, and his eye blackened, while the Holy figure's robes were slashed and tattered, revealing more of his block-like body, the corners that act as the muscles shattering itself a bit.
Despite them being at their limit, after what felt like eons, they still kept going.
Satan wished for this world to be made upon his image: one that captured the destructive world he wishes to make. God wanted to make this world in his stead: one of Peace and equity. The battle raged onwards, with no signs of one going down. More blood was spilt, more shockwaves were made. Strikes upon the Devil's eye, Chops at God's own neck. Grabbing Satan's very throat and brutally slamming him into the earth, while the Devil grabbed the Holy Spirit's arm and tried to break it, before unleashing his own flurry of attacks. It was as if the very universes around them was trying to break open and collapse in on itself, until suddenly, without any other rhyme or reason, one would go down for a bit.
The Devil itself, Satan, was knocked down. With this position, God took advantage. A Cross was made upon the Devil's body, which was followed by one more punch. A Punch that held the strength to create his own world. A Punch made to symbolize his very image. When the strike was made, it burrowed a strong hole deep within the earth's layers, digging the devil deep within the abyss that was the Earth's very core. The Cross would act as a strong symbol, to serve as the end for the Devil's rule in the world above, a blast of light to rocket him deeper and deeper, while the hole itself collapsed underneath its weight. Satan was dug deeper and deeper within the bowels of the world, before ultimately being sealed away for eternity.
God has Won.
It looked onwards to the darkened sky. It sees the black skies part itself once more, the light from above acting as his source to see everything. It knew what it needed to do. With waves upon his hands, he'd began to fix the world itself. The Land slowly cooled itself, as the clouds began to rain. Life slowly began to create itself, slowly growing plants and trees within its cracks. The atmosphere slowly repaired itself, with the plants granting the very oxygen it needed to thrive. The world, as God himself knows it, slowly had the planet grow into an unnatural size. The very world was being rebuilt, mainly in his very image, in his very depiction of what the world should be.
Organisms slowly started to be made, as God continued to work on this world. For many days and many nights, he made sure each detail of the world was at its best. He makes the plants grow. He makes the sky blue. He makes more land for animals to roam. He makes holes upon rock to act as shelter for those in need. He supplies water, and he supplies air. He was slowly making a Garden out of this world, a Garden that only he took care of. Soon, the very garden would be finished, after the 30th day. God himself departed, allowing the Animals and the plants to make their own paths now, to let them live how they wish to live. A World where everything is now at an equilibrium. A Garden, with one name.
"Eden"
Such was why it is called "God's Theory." Such was the law of God himself, where he believed his creations are valued as high, if not higher, than himself.
Not through pride, but by love.