Story inspired by the following prompt: Monks discover scary secret: there is only limited souls being ‘recycled’ by reincarnation and by reaching the highest human population ever, soulless people are being born

Having a full soul is a feeling like no other. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but I’ll do my best to explain.

It’s immortality, and power over nature. It’s fulfillment, a feeling of total purpose. It’s satisfaction. There’s no room for doubt, for low self esteem, for uncertainty. It’s being a complete human.

Like I said, I wouldn’t expect you to know that. Because you don’t have a full soul.

Long ago, longer than you can imagine, I created the earth from stardust, and I blew life upon it’s surface. As the ages passed, I witnessed the first large organisms develop. I swam with the megalodons, I flew with pterodactsls, I rode theighty Tyrannosaurus rex.

But among these, none were a companion. None shared the intellect, the feeling, the innate substance of a soul. So I brought the meteor to destroy them, and I started life anew. I sought companionship- someone to share the world with me, as equals.

So I brought forth men.

Physically, I sculpted them like myself. I gave them superior minds, making them clever and methodical. I gave them feelings- happiness, sadness, and anger, among others.

But still, something was missing. I couldn’t give them passion, because there is one thing my hands cannot create. It is the very thing that defines me. A soul.

And without that, I was still alone.

So I gathered the first humans, wretched things, with no light behind the eyes, cursed with the weight of intelligence without it’s benefits, and I split my soul among them. And that very moment is when they became human, and regarded me as a god.

They grew and they multiplied as time passed. With each generation, their souls became more diluted- though a soul is a powerful thing, and even a sliver is enough.

Sometimes, a person would be born with more of a soul than others. They’d be remembered in history- as saints, or men of great compassion, and even those who still retained the powers over nature and commanded miracles with their hands. And other times, some were born with less, and we’re remembered for great evils, or wars, or dark stains upon human history.

But now, at nearly seven billion humans, my soul runs thin. There’s a reason why people look fondly upon times past, or grandparents remember their younger days in a brighter light- there was more soul to go around back then.

And people can feel it. Depression, lack of purpose, trying to fill the hole within with with no success- this is all due to a lack of soul. Men turned to their minds to technology as an answer, but no spiritual gain was found.

Soon there won’t be enough soul to hold the world together. Nations will crumble, and humanity will die off.

And I can be me again.

And I will continue my search for a new companion.

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