So it had begun, a beginning of an end.
From the endless void of nothing, creation awakened. 
Within the first few seconds of time, a singularity was made.

Reaching into the fabric of existence, a god enfolded the edges of the shroud that was reality into his design. Stretching the fabric over the remaining void of all voids, reality swallowed the void within its core. The infinitesimal corners were twisted, coiled into a spiraling descent and bound by their own unwinding threads. The fabric shaped itself as the god stitched his design into this precipice, the overlapping pieces forming the descending layers of what was. Finally did the god weave at the central threads, pulling the stings as they braided themselves upwards and knotted the anchor which locked reality into place.

"Here, where Synn has enrapt the perfect void at this fringe of reality since the dawn of creation, shall there be a place for Synn to rule over as the absolute over his subjects." 

The god made his decree. By this mandate, he had formed his Pit of Pandemonium, and within his tower of strings Synn watched the rest of his siblings invoke their own domains to create the universe. Alone, he was no god of creation as he retreated into the sanctum he had just made. They would seek him out when he was required, when they find the world to be far greater than they can manage: when they need a God of Control.