In the vast emptiness of the fledging world, a single point of green emerged.

It was born from an impossibility. From coincidence. For a moment it was small, then tangles grew and filled up around. More and more. The green began to spread. Reaching further and further and further. It grew further and further. Slowly at first but with every pulse of growth it grew faster. Everytime its tendrils reached further.

Randomly at first, then with purpose. It wished to latch on to something. So this green growth could gain a shape, a purpose and then to consume what it had found so it could find its next host.



The green non-shape shuddered. It’s tendrils reached for the sound within the void. The one sign of something it could wrap itself around. Frantically and with desperation it reached out for it. Tendrils grew, created more shapeless green from which more tendrils reached further.



A single tendril made a leap of desperate faith. It could not see. It shouldn’t hear. Yet it touched whatever called to it. In a split second a ripple went through the shapeless green. It stopped growing. Then it started to collapse into itself. Again, first slowly, then faster and faster until the whole expanse it had once covered was void again. It had sacrificed all that it was, to become what it had to be.

The goddess saw, which was a new sensation. She felt, which was new as well. Before her she saw the scroll. No, the Khodex for it had given her its name. It bid her to fill it with her power and because it asked, she did. Her form glowed with an intense green light. Life was born and like before she had gained shape, she would stretch it across the worlds. Everywhere she would exist. In the deep and in the highest peaks. She’d be born a million times and stretch across the great void until all that was, was she.

–





From that moment in life, something was born beside her. It did not know what it was or where it was, but it held something inside of it that it did not know. It was shapeless; it was unknown to everything, including itself. The only thing it knew was the cold. It had no purpose at that moment. It drew something from an entity nearby, life as it believed her to be called, and a man was formed. Pale and youthful, the man looked with rounded ears, unlike the woman standing beside him. There were white flowing locks, bright blue eyes, and wild, unkept facial hair about him. He looked like a thousand things, but it was eerie, almost imitating the figure before him that he took his form. He liked the form; it was not the same, but imitation.

But, there was a cold to him, light and darkness in him, though he was pure in his motive, whatever that may have been. His eyes turned, as did his body, as he took in all that was around him. He saw life as it was, a beautiful thing and a thing that was meant to be cherished, and he cherished every sight he took in. His last sight was that of a woman, the reason he was here.

At that moment, he had a purpose. To create something just as beautiful.

His jaw unlocked, and he smiled brightly as he held a hand out to the woman before him. He stared around as he had his hand out, he knew he saw a woman before him, but he did not know anything else. He felt many things, and he knew he had a purpose that had to do with the figure in front of him. He knew she created everything around them, the life, but he wondered why he did not do the same or if he could.

His mouth closed, and he looked straight at her, white hair laying against him in a static standard, as if nothing around him affected him, as if he was old and dead but alive and youthful at the same time. His other hand moved up to his brow, and he tipped his head forward to touch it as his eyes closed, and then he placed his hand on his chest over his heart as he raised his eyelids to look back at her. A faint smile was on his face; it was something foreign to him, but it felt natural and needed in that moment.

When his hand on his heart reached out to her, he opened his palm and splayed it out so that it could cover all of his sight, all that he could see. He wanted to show her everything she already did, for it was something he could not. He wanted to see it again; he wanted to see it for himself because he knew she did not create him. He knew something else created him, but it was time to learn why; maybe this figure knew. Maybe, they could be friends.

---

The wheel spun and spun, and it saw things come and go, each in turn leaving their mark. It did its best to read over their shoulders, so to speak, and it learned some interesting things about what was, was not, and would be.

Some crafter or twisted great energies, but it was a trio of beings that it had the most interest in.

First thing of smaller things, who in imprinting insects upon the world gave her an understanding of their beginnings.

Second the thing of tendrils, that shaped how things would change and grow.

Lastly, the thing of bones, who raged against an end not yet written, and in doing so letting her see the shape of it.

The three inside of it spoke to one another, muttering in circles about what it had seen, till the maker realized that, if it could talk to itself, surely it could talk to others too, as some of the other things here had done.

So it did.

On a new path the wheel did roll, spinning after the first thing it had observed, the thing of insects.

“Hi hi hello! Can we talk?” the maker called over to it, as much a question as to if it was even possible as it was a request for consent.

The Cloud suddenly spurred, coming apart. The insects which had made up its body began to fly around the wheel, surrounding it, as if examining it from every angle. Some of the tiny creatures even went so far as to land on it, walking across it for a few seconds before flying back to rejoin the circling swarm.

“Now look at what you’ve done, you broke it, and that’s the other one’s job” the Maintainer teased the Maker, only for both of them to be horrified when the breaker did what had been unthinkable, and halted their rolling in order to avoid squishing an errant insect.

The wheel began to vibrate violently for a few moments, wracked by internal conflicts, before with a pop it collapsed in on itself, and was replaced with a small figure. The green skinned woman had pointed ears and teeth, a few gems hanging from the former and replacing a few of the latter, and who’s complexion was aged like a fine wine. She wore purple robes and atop her head sat a wide brimmed and pointed hat, which made for a rather perfect landing platform for the insects.

“Sorry about that dearie, those two almost caused a nasty accident, and we can’t have that now can we?” she said apologized with a little tip of her hat, before introducing herself “I am the Breaker of Cycles, a pleasure to make your acquaintance ”

The insects began to circle for a few more moments, before suddenly moving away from her back to their original position, where they began to reassemble. Except this time instead of forming a shapeless cloud, they took on the shape of a wheel - the same wheel they had just been inspecting. They held this form for maybe a few seconds, before they came apart and reassembled again. This time, the buzzing mass took on the same general size and shape of the green woman’s form.

Greeting, the mass of insects buzzed. We are… they began, but then paused. Who were they, exactly? We are Many, they finally said.

“And we are three” the Breaker replied, before pausing and then pondering thoughtfully “or I am three? Hmmm. It is difficult to say”

Then, without any fanfare, she was different. Younger, much younger, as the Maker took control of the wheel and declared “We should have names! For what all of us is!” before looking thoughtful in a much more agitated manner than the Breaker had, foot tapping, hands making tiny fluttering claps before her mouth before she came up with “we should be Awheel! No, Asheel! That’s us. We’re Asheel!”

Then she changed again, growing older and fuller, and at the same time more tired looking than the other two as the Maintainer revealed herself to say “Well, our second choice certainly was a major improvement” to her younger form, before addressing the insects again to ask “So, do you have a name for your, ah, collective?”

The swarm had mirrored each change, adjusting size and shape. Of course the imitation was nowhere near perfect - the ‘body language’ was not quite right, and at the end of the day they were only copying the other god’s shape, so they were still fundamentally a buzzing mass of insects. Name? they questioned, an edge of uncertainty in the tone of the buzzes. We did not know we needed a name! they exclaimed, feeling a sudden sense of anxiety. They had done something wrong. They had already bungled their first attempt at communication!

“Now now, no need to fret, we just came up with ours on the spot right now, if you need to take your time that’s perfectly alright” the Maintainer said gently in an attempt to soothe their first not themselves conversational partner, before explaining that ”Plus, we overheard some of the others using them before, so we had something a head start on this”

“Not that the Maker made much use of that head start. Much too impulsive that girl” the Breaker popped in to tease, which got a brief “hey!” of complaint from the Maker before the Maintainer was back again, rolling her eyes at the other two’s antics.

The Swarm let out a long contemplative bzzzzz. So this was not something that was required of them, it was merely invented by some of the others. And yet it seemed others expected them to go along with it. This created something of an impasse - they had no personal need for a name and yet if they wished to show cooperation they had to have one. Eventually they came up with a compromise.

The one you call ‘Maker’ has more experience with these ‘names’ than we do, they finally declared. This ‘Maker’ may decide what you will call us.

“Oh dear” went the Breaker, quickly followed by an “oh yeah!” from the Maker, before she did what can only be described as a finger wagging dance of contemplation as she brainstormed out loud “Hmmmm. Buzzy. Buggy. Uhhhhh. Swarmy. Swurmy? The swarm that talks. Or no, how about… A thousand eyes like gems. Mr bugs. The mighty monarchs. The monarch with endless eyes. Abee. Abey. Abigail the uncountable.” and showing no signs of stopping, apparently putting way more thought into this than their own name.

The Swarm merely waited in polite silence, seemingly unbothered by the delay. However, as the Maker went on, an air of anticipation began to build, as they became more and more curious what she would settle on.

The little goblin seemed to pick up on this and became increasingly agitated “I um, oh, uh,“until she wrapped back around to the beginning of her brainstorming and came up with a final simple answer “Bugsby? Bugsby Maldrone? Nah. Just Bugsby. Yeah that fits. Short, sweet, and fun!” and then looking up at the swarm and telling them that “You’re Bugsby!”

Bugsby! the Swarm - ‘Bugsby’ now - exclaimed with unexpected excitement, as the insects buzzed and flew about with more intensity. They had a name. That felt good, for some strange reason. They should get even more names. A good name, they declared, not having much to compare it to. Then a thought struck them, and for a moment the insects froze. But we have spent much time talking about names when there is work to be done! Tell me, did you write in the Kho-Dex?

“In a way. We drew circles. Perfect, meticulous circles. I’d have preferred only one-” the Maintainer began to say, only for the breaker to intercede with “-but I’d wasn’t having none of that, eh he”

“And I made new ones alllllll over” the Maker said “New circles. New cycles. Now things starting”

“Those things continue over and over and over, just as they should. Neat. Consistent. Gathering power as they write themselves into the universe” the Maintainer asserted ”all things spinning in harmony”

“Until they aren't. All things must end, even universes, and that is a moment where all that built up power can be released in a lovely moment” the Breaker insisted “You see, sometimes the canvas wiped clean-”

“-so that new things can be drawn in their place” the Maker concluded, before continuing “new stuff like all the things you imprinted on it. Insects? They seem super neat!”

I know what you speak of, Bugsby interjected with enthusiasm, clearly fascinated by the topic. We have lived this, before we came here! We are born, we grow, we live, we build, we lay eggs, then we die. Then the eggs hatch, we are born, we grow, we live, we build, we lay eggs, and we die again. And on it goes! they exclaim cheerfully, as if they weren’t just describing an endless cycle of death and toil. It is ‘neat’, isn’t it?

“It certainly is ‘neat’ yes” the Maintainer agreed “and rather vindicating to know we were right about how things would, or should, flow”

“I was ever so curious about what that shouty fellow was raging against” the Breaker added “But seeing how your insect cycle, it is clear that some people are not so happy about that whole dying thing. Tisk. Some folks just can’t accept ending it seems”

As if on cue, a green mote touched the Khodex, filling it with yet more life, and rather specifically, life designed to not have an ending, that would spread, grow, and never age or die. To the Breaker, her body the picture of old age, this was just a little insulting, bemoaning “oh look, now there’s two of them”

What is the matter? Bugsby asked with concern. Is it their writings?

“I mean, it gets in the way of ours. If this life stuff just … fills up everywhere, then there won’t be space for new stuff” the maker bemoaned, while the maintainer simply declared that “That isn’t a cycle, it is stagnation. It does not spin, it simply sits there” with obvious distaste

“I just don’t see why they fear this ‘death’ concept so much” the Breaker said with a shake of her head, before the Maker deigned to actually ask “What’s it even like? Death I mean”

Oh, it is very undesirable for the one doing the dying, Bugsby assured her. Most things die when they have nothing left to offer, when they fail to secure their own survival, or when the survival of their hive requires it, but it is never chosen. A creature that desires death would be poorly designed. But creatures such as what we are now do not die so easily, do they? I am confused too - why would they fear what does not affect them? The swarm was not mocking, or judging, but genuinely curious. Why do this if it will only result in stagnation and the filling up of everything, as you say? Then before she could answer, the Swarm’s emotions shifted yet again. No no, this is terrible! I have not yet met everyone and we are already in conflict!

“I suppose that’s bound to happen when we simply toss things together like this without any coordination” the Maintainer replied sadly “perhaps if we had met before we made additions, we might have reached unity of purpose”

Ironically however, they were very much in the midst of not doing that, as the Breaker took them back to the issue of death by saying “But an end. There must be an end. The body must returned its nutrients to the soil”

“so a new cycle can start,” the Maker agreed

“and then they get to be part of that new cycle” the Maintainer concluded with a nod.

Which prompted the Breaker to now ask “So what is undesirable about that for the one doing the dying? They failed, as you said, but then they get to be part of new life, and get a new chance” and in doing so exposing the fundamental flaw of their thinking.

The Swarm took a few moments to contemplate this question before answering. It is undesirable because all things must preserve their own existence. They all have tasks to do, and if they die before their time, all the things they might do will never be done. There is value in both life and death, but to get the value of death you must sacrifice the value of life and that exchange is not always optimal. Most things do not get to decide or know when the value of their death becomes greater than the value of their life, so they must resist. This does not mean they should not die at all - but if all things welcomed death, there would be nothing.

“I guess it would be kinda sad to not be able to finish making all the things I wanted to make” the Maker admitted, while the Maintainer pondered, “and who would make sure the cycles spin after I am gone?”

The Breaker was instant however “No no, you don’t get to continue forever either my dears. We will end, and then someone else will take our place. Our essence will cycle somewhere else and be reused”

“Yeah but that wouldn't. Wouldn’t be us? We wouldn’t get to see it. The us that is… The… There's something … ” the Maker fidgeted as she thought it over, before finally realizing “The mind! The mind does not cycle, it just ends!”

Bugsby offered an affirmative buzz, as if that was what they were trying to get at.

“Then we need to rectify this at once!” The Maintainer asserted, only for the Breaker demand to know that “Surely you can’t be considering agreeing with those stagnant fools? Even if the mind isn’t preserved, we still need to cycle the rest of the creature”

“Nah we’ll just cycle the mind as well!” The Maker said, before she hurried back over to the Khodex and then somehow managed to pull the life cycle back up onto the surface of it. Except, of course, it wasn’t really a life cycle, this she now understood. It went from egg to young to adult to old and then dead, full stop. The solution was simple. She just added a line pointing back to the young form again.

“There we go. Now we match! Maker, Maintainer, Breaker, and then back to Maker again! Easy” she declared, before adding “or I guess. Hmmm. I guess they’re Maiden, Mother and Crone huh?”

“Either way, guess that’s that“ she said as she started to step away, only to pause and get an excited little grin on her lips before she asked “but you know what would be more fun?!”

“Oh no” went both the Maintainer and Breaker in turn before the Maker declared “more cycles!” and then started wildly scrawlling everywhere and anywhere, creating what looked like an absolute mess till the moment she had finished, at which point she had linked the end of every type of life to the start of every other type of life.

“There, now everything can be everything, and death won’t be so scary and sad any more” she declared as she stepped back, dusting her hands off and feeling mighty satisfied with her work.

Well, we are happy to have helped you reach a solution, Bugsby offered, and we hope this settles the conflict. We are going to go now, but we might work together again in the future. And with that, the swarm - which to this point had been copying Asheel’s various forms - reverted back to a cloud.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Bugsby, and thank you ever so much for the help” the Maintainer said with a bow, before the Breaker dipped out of it and added “Yes indeed. Now do have a lovely time dear” and the Maker finished with “see you again soon” while waving to the departing swarm.

Ӌմʍąʂհ

The being of Chaos took a moment before finally noticing the god close to them. Their font of chaos seemingly rises in interest. “Oh Hello!” They drew closer, a hand extended in greeting. “So Nice To See Another Here! Larues Right? I’m Yumash! Was Hoping To Meet Another God Here.”

The newborn god turned his head to the side. Wondering what intentions the other god had. “Yes…it is…perhaps you will be helpful to me…” Lareus shook the chao god’s hand. His long fingers wrapped around Yumash’s hand before moving to his side. “Dreams….are chaotic always moving and changing… depending on the dreamer.” Lareus thought momentarily about how to create a realm that would connect all of these dreams. He needed someplace to watch all the mortal’s dreams. “I felt we were destined to meet…your unpredictability is intriguing…” The yellow-robed god was staring at Yumash through his “mask.”

“Oh Chaos? I Love Chaos! Did I Mention I’m Chaos? I Always Enjoy Chaotic Things! You Mentioned Dreams? I Don’t Remember If I Had Dreams Except If You Count The Pie One I Really Wish I Had A Pie Around Now.” They suddenly stopped, looking around the void completely silent. Before they suddenly returned their focus back to the god in front of them. “Maybe We Were Destined. If Dreams Are As Chaotic As You Say, I Do Know A Thing Or Two About Chaos!”

Lareus’ face didn’t show any signs of any kind of emotions, the only thing he did was make a strange noise. “Pie? What is…pie? Yes…and with the chaotic dreams of mortals…it would be the perfect way to learn and observe them….” Lareus made a motion with his arm extending it towards the void around them. “Once….of course…the mortals…are created…perhaps we should see if…there are other gods here….” The dream god made a peculiar motion with his hands. A long-looking staff materializes in his hand. “Let us go forth and…meet our brothers and sisters…perhaps we may find this…pie you desire…” He said now floating away from Yumash. He wondered if the other gods had dreams like himself and Yumash.

The Chaos god’s font seemingly brightened at the idea. “Oh Yes! One Of Them Might Have Pie!” They began to float alongside Lareus, trying to keep up pace. “And I’ll Be Happy To Help Out With Those Mortals Once They’re Made. I Do Love A Good Chaos!” They began to hum a discordant tune as they floated, ever so slightly spinning forward.

---

The bull knew not for how long he had flown (again, time was in flux). He had simply sought to get as far away from the wicked, taunting laughter of his sworn enemy. Remains of cosmic gas oozing from the ethereal manure on his hooves left an icy blue trail behind him, like an odious comet streaking across the fetal cosmos. Had he not been fuming with anger and shame, he might have heard a raging ape somewhere over the golden lake cuss out a little flea. The bull paid it no mind, for he had no mind to pay with. His head flowed over with unsavoury plans for how he would integrate the smug face of that heroic fart into the cosmic soil. His head was so full, in fact, that he didn’t notice the giant monkey’s kidney stone flying across the cosmic horizon. By the time the bull’s eyes escaped his navel, he was an arm’s length from the barren surface.

A moment later, the bull came back to his senses. His velocity and carelessness had sent him straight through the outer surface of the planet into a set of porous caverns right underneath, formed from rapidly cooling magma exposed to the freezing outer atmosphere. He eyed the darkness surrounding him; it was doubtful that the cave network stretched far. His disturbance of the geology had created a localised anomaly, nothing more. He looked up - a small blink indicated that the surface was some distance above, but not unreachable. The bull paid little mind to questions regarding whether he had made a crater or caused irreparable damage to the planet; the immediate shock of the crash was gradually replaced by his previous anger. Why had he crashed here? Why had the planet been in the way? He just wanted to sulk, damn it!

In his fury, he ripped a stalagmite out of the ground and swung it around, breaking the walls around him and releasing more magma, which would rapidly cool, only to be broken again. Channels were dug deeper in some directions; in others, the ground caved in. Water from above poured down in sections, creating aquifers and underground rivers. Magma and water collided to create great clouds of steam which condensed on the cave ceiling and left a dank atmosphere. Some water dripped down on the ground and left the whole network eerily moist.

Eventually, the god tired of his tantrum. Over the span of his rampage, he had dug kilometres of underground channels, some which had spawned cracks up to the surface where the occasional blink of light from the lake of gold winked at the deep. Underground lakes had formed, and the barren darkness had acquired an oozing dampness that choked the nostrils. The bull huffed and looked around. So much destruction wrecked on the Chthony of Galbar. Yet he was not sated. Oh no, he was far from sated - he could wreck a thousand channels more. Maybe the surface deserved a good dig? With a thirst for tilling, the bull climbed out of the hole he had made upon his crash into the planet and, using his horns as shovels, began tilling the dead, barren earth, nostrils fuming like the bellows of a forge.

Yet the bull’s rampage had left another mark, one that he had not picked up on his stampede. The primordial filth that caked the bull’s disgusting hooves had brought with it some unexpected passengers: A little spore, a remainder of a simple life form that had lived off of nebulean cow pies back in the bull’s own realm, had traveled along on the minotaur’s hoof. In the rampage of the monster, some tracks had left spores all throughout the caverns. Most spores were instantly destroyed; either by the freezing cold, the barren soil or by the grueling heat of the sunpool. Yet one small patch persisted, one hardly larger than a biscuit. It had found an almost right microcosm in the underground caves: the moisture was adequate, the temperature was survivable, the shadows sheltered it from the gruesome radiation of space.

Still, one crucial item was missing: sustenance. The soil was almost entirely inedible, and despite the fungi’s best efforts, once it had consumed the filth in the hoofprint on which it had hiked, there was nothing else there. A part of the colony sought to expand outwards in search of food, and some mucus tendrils were lucky and found more filth; however, it was consumed quickly, and the mucus could hardly reach the distance the bull had taken in a single step. With no more food in reach, almost the entirety of the fungus went into a catatonic state of near-death, a last-ditch effort to save nutrients in a desperate plea for a future of plenty. In virtually any other timeline, this would have meant the end for this fungus as well; like the other traces left behind by the bull, this one too, would have died.

Yet a fraction, a small network within the network of the mycelium mucus, had absorbed the greatest share of nutrients from the bull’s filth. As such, it had concentrated most of the strength and power… Divine power. With it, the groggy, near-dormant fungus concentrated what power it had left in a craving search for something - anything - to help it stay alive. In an instant, using the droplet of the droplet of infinite potential trapped within the divine essence it had absorbed, the fungus broke through the barrier between the Material and the Astral. It was no star - it was not even a flicker of burnt gas; what it was, though, was enough. For the briefest, infinitesimally short blink of time, the fungus transcended into the Immaterial. It understood not what had happened, for even without its complete and utter catatonicism from starvation, it would not have had the senses nor the consciousness to describe what had just transpired. As such, with the last of its power spent, the fungus descended into a weak, doomed slumber.

… And yet, it had happened. A flicker of divine energy had permitted Galbar’s first mortal life to break the barrier between the planes. The fungus was not dead; it could very well be within an hour, but for now, it lived. The Astral Plane had felt its hunger, even for the briefest of moments, and a link had been established. The fungus, for the rest of its existence, would be irrevocably tied with the realm of the stars. Should it survive until sustenance arrives, perhaps the link could be nourished and, with time, even expand into a channel? But for now, it slept, trapped in limbo between the newly material concepts of the living and the dead.

Elsewhere, the Great Till had begun.

---

She was there, wherever there was in this endless current strands of a forming universe. Her form seemed to just be as if predetermined and she had simply appeared but whatever it was supposed to represent she didn't know. She? That was something, as if there was simply things in her head to help define what exactly everything around her was. How useful, whatever had caused this to occur would need to be thanked as the time before was troubling when it couldn't be understood. However long that was, the concept of things being before and after was new too. But that sort of introspection was for another time for now she couldn't ignore what was really on her mind.

There were things around her. Distant and close, far and near. Some moved and changed things around her, others just seemed to be forces and existences that were there. This was her curiosity, looking at these fundamental forces of the universe. She could feel the things changing around her as certain parts were bent to others will. There was no desire to do such things from the auburn-haired being that had emerged. She didn't quite care how things were around her, this was not why it caught her intention. Why it did was the gnawing in her stomach.

She plucked a bit of something out and looked curiously. Perhaps if she put things there it would end, then she could focus on whatever it was she was supposed to do. After all everything else seemed to be focusing on doing things so there must be one she was supposed to as well. But that would have to wait until it was gone and so she put that piece in her mouth and--

She spit it out. It was disgusting. Whatever this sense was, taste? It was awful at that. She'd need to find something else as she went around to search for such a thing. There must be something else, something that wasn't awful. Eventually she found it, a small thing that couldn't possibly be big enough to fill the continuously demanding growl coming from her stomach. Then something clicked. She didn't know what these things were since she was so distracted, but her mind had worked out to put that small bit on something larger she hadn't liked before. And so she could finally quiet it all, and break free.

Talyr.

Her name was Talyr. She knew that much at least, that came flooding back into her as well as many things she was supposed to probably know. A universe, the changing everyone was doing and writing the laws of it all. There were two things she didn't quite know as she sat there, two which troubled her. She was still unsure what or who these other entities are of the more minor sense, just that she was one of them. On the more important note, she had no idea what she was here for. The others seemed to have some understanding beyond just that strange feeling earlier she had been so desperate to clear.

But perhaps that was it. None of the rest seemed even bothered by it. Perhaps they didn't feel it, and seeking to end such a thing would be what she was here for. Maybe other things, in time, would feel the same she did and it would be hers to teach them how to remove it. After all the many things she had tried, most she couldn't bring herself to swallow. But if there was one thing to be decent, perhaps there would be more. Many ways she could quiet such a feeling so it never came to her again.

She looked, and saw something. A world. Perhaps there she would find more things that worked well. She had no interest in the fundamental laws or changing anything, she could already tell the feeling would return in a short time. So she should start the search for something new to eat again now.

---

As the bull left to lick his wounds, Galaxor flew on into the cosmos. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, there was nothing out there after all. Nothing but time to ponder on what to do. Heroes were always needed and once the world would be made, heroes will be made. Challenges will be at every step. Other divines might want to interfere with Galaxor’s plans, not that he cared that much, all were below his heroic body but he preferred not to make enemies everywhere. After all, even the mightiest can fall at the hands of the many.

He wandered around the nothingness until he felt something. He couldn’t see what it was but something was out there. Something noticed him. Maybe it was one of his old enemies. Maybe they managed to follow him to this place. So, he did what all heroes do. Taking a deep breath, he let his aura shine bright and in his loudest and most heroic voice said:

“My name is Galaxor, the God of Heroes, the Hero Maker, Divine Artisan of Heroes, Celestial Forger of Legendary Champions, Master of Heroic Destinies, Architect of Heroism and Valor, Weaver of Epic Tales, Cosmic Mentor of Heroic Prodigies, the Legendary Enabler of Greatness, Creator of Champions, the Mythweaver, the Cosmic Patron of Heroic Aspirations, the Celestial Architect of Legendary Deeds. If you’re here to challenge me, I’ll leave the first move to you. ”

A few moments later, his demeanour changed. His aura changed once more, shining even brighter, his muscles bulged, his eyes flared with divine power.

“Show yourself or face my wrath” the Hero Galaxor said. The tone changed from before, gone was the cheerful, friendly voice. Commanding. The only word that could describe it.

What emerged could not be called a god; frail wisps, a mere fraction of the power a divine ought to be granted. Like a sacrificial offering terrified of the altar, it recoiled from Galaxor’s aura. It bristled like a cornered animal, before ultimately coalescing some rationality, enough to speak. In the divine tongue – proof it was no mere monster – it eked out, “Don’t hurt me.”

In the morass of nonexistence, which could not be called dark for light did not yet exist, it did not form a body. Instead, it remained mere traces of essence, scattered in a probabilistic cloud across both a length and a point, all one and the same with no matter which to measure against. Still, it cowered from Galaxor’s aura, treading the edges in a manner more avoidant of divine proximity than any measure of distance.

If there was more to this thing, this creature with barely the power of a proto-godling, it was nowhere to be found. Either it did not exist, or it was well-hidden amongst the nonexistence that was the total sum of reality.

The moment the divine being appeared, if one could even call it like that, and talked, Galaxor’s aura changed once more. The heroic aspect of Galaxor fading. His muscles, demeanour, everything went back to normal.

“Ha HA HA! Little one! I’m sorry to have frightened you! I thought you were one of the many enemies I’ve made throughout the cosmos. Now, let me look at you..” said Galaxor trying to understand what exactly he was seeing in front of him. It was something. The same something he felt before. He couldn’t place it.

Looking at the divine inquisitively, Galaxor bent down to take a better look at it before shaking his head.

“I’ve seen many things but I haven’t seen anything like you. What are you, little one? I can feel the divine spark in you but never have I seen such a faint spark. ”

The wisps scattered at his gaze, split into several different directions – as much as they could without direction. Every word jarred them, as though the simple act of being spoken to was enough to drive them to blind terror. The same little voice, less coherent against the background for the scattering of its component parts, “Scared,” it spoke, and then paused, and then continued, “Don’t hurt,” as though to emphasise its frailty.

It refused to coalesce, in a clear attempt to minimise the amount of it that Galaxor could perceive at any given time. Once it was clear it had not been immediately struck down, its babbling came at a greater rate, “Don’t hurt, don’t want to fight, please,” it begged, still skimming at the edge of Galaxor’s perception and aura.

Galaxor shook his head once more at the thing.

“Little one, if I wanted to hurt or fight, we wouldn’t be talking, would we? Ha! HA! HA! But maybe my mighty form is too much for you. Let’s see what I can do about that.. ” laughed Galaxor before slapping his hands together, letting out a mighty clap.

Two things happened at that same time. First was that Galaxor’s form seemed to shift and bend as if he was trying to replicate the thing’s form.

Secondly, the sound of the clap materialised itself in the form of a cage. Strong and fast enough to catch a minor god, definitely not strong enough to hold a fully powered up god. Galaxor might’ve not known what he was dealing with but he dealt with many creatures in his time. Even the mightiest heroes need to resort to tricks to capture their enemies after all.

The wisps battered against every wall of the cage, as the begging reached a crescendo, “Want freedom, please, don’t hurt! Will stay out of your way, I promise! Please!” The behaviour once more became that of a cornered animal, sparks of divine energy arcing out as though they were claws, trying to scratch anything in reach. They were disempowered, insignificant to even an instinctual divine defence.

With a loud audible, hmph, Galaxor started to shrink the cage, more and more. Enough to cause pain and some damage but nothing that a divine couldn’t heal in less than a few seconds if left alone.

“Little one, you’ll soon find you won’t have much space to move or exist for that matter. Tell me your name. What are you? ” said Galaxor with a low tone, threatening. He didn’t want to kill this being but not wanting to present itself to another divine? A minor god? Now that didn’t feel right.

The insignificant godling screamed in pain, pressed against itself in the cage. It whimpered, offering up what was demanded without hesitation, “God of knowledge, I- I,” it let out another cry of pain as it pressed against the cage, “not lucky, given less, less power than others. Please, don’t want to die,” there was no indication of a lie, there; it broke instantly under pressure, more indicative of not having considered the option of explaining itself rather than deliberately hiding something.

It then returned to begging, “Sorry, sorry, if hurt, just, just want freedom, please,” as it pressed against the bars of the cage, more by necessity than choice as its own compression drove it outwards.

With a loud sigh from Galaxor, the cage disappeared, healing the divine as it did.

"God of Knowledge, you say? I haven't met one of you in a long time! Ha! Ha! Ha! Maybe you can answer me a question then! What was the secret ingredient in my mother's kimchi soup? She never once told me! " Galaxor asked while taking a seat in midair. The divine didn't pose any danger, no need to stand up to him, especially as he saw how weak the divine was.

The little godling answered, “Where, where I am from, people ate,” the god pulled from its mind one of the heavens it had scattered on its escape, “they ate songs. Not just those sung by themselves, but the song of birds, and the song of winds rustling through trees. They ate the symphonies produced by natural laws.” The wisps of divinity separated again, still clearly wary of Galaxor.

"That's not what I asked you about, did I? You’re a god of knowledge, surely you must know that. But a very interesting idea, after you answer my question, I'll offer you…Two songs. Call it an apology for hurting you. " replied Galaxor, who already knew what songs he'd tell the gosling. The best songs there were out in the cosmos. The songs about him and his might.

The wisp considered a moment, then responded, “If your mother never told you, then it was a secret. I, I do not know secrets. I am a god of knowledge, not, not secrets.” it recoiled away from him, as though fearful of retaliation, each wisp scattered out across a wide non-space, such that it could not be caged again.

Galaxor laughed for a moment before frowning, he stood up from where he sat.

"A-ha! Caught you! I never had a mother! I was created by a different divine which I then bested in single combat! A god of knowledge would have…that knowledge. " said Galaxor, half shouting.

The wisps of divine essence scattered further, suddenly alarmed by the motion and the noise. It hastily replied, terror edged back in its voice, “You– You didn’t listen to me, did you? You’re seeking something to abuse, you,” its voice hardened, seemingly with realisation, “you’re sadistic, and you’ve found a victim, I need–” as its voice silenced suddenly, the wisps of godling began to openly flee, pure horror and terror in its wake.

At that, Galaxor started laughing very loudly and shrieked to his usual size.

"Sorry! Sorry! Don't run, calm yourself. I'm just joking with you…and I don't like being lied to. But very well, keep your secrets, God of whatever. I'll very much like to chat more…in the future. Your form may not be heroic but oh' my, the stories you could make! " shouted, in a friendly tone, Galaxor to the fleeting godling.

He knew something was off about them. Something they didn't tell them. Definitely not a god of knowledge but of what? Galaxor had no clue. Almost as if…it was a secret that the cosmos was hiding from him. Knowledge that eluded him.

"Time" passed and a tiny planet appeared in Galaxor's vision after leaving the Eidolon to their scheming.

Smiling, the Hero Maker flew as fast as he could to it, thinking mortals have been made by other divines already. 'Alas upon arriving, he realised his mistake. The planet was far from being done. No life of any kind. Nothing worthwhile for the mighty divine.

Where he landed on the planet, he noticed a massive crater and inside it, tunnels. Many, many tunnels. He followed the tunnels for a bit until he felt the divine essence of Roxalag and shook his head. Galaxor thought this wasn’t the right time to meet the divine again, after all, he needed more time to train before they would meet again. That meant that Galaxor had to simply do the most sensible thing, go in the opposite direction.

Arriving at the end of the tunnels, amidst a large pool of molten magma. Touching it slightly with his finger, the magma froze over Galaxor’s finger and that’s when the God of Heroes was struck by an idea. Taking a deep breath, Galaxor started to laugh. Laugh and laugh. Louder by the “second”. The cave where he was in, while initially just vibrating until the soundly onslaught, eventually gave way.

Exerting all his godly strength, Galaxor skillfully triggered a controlled cave-in above the seething magma pool. Through a combination of his immense power and manual effort, he sculpted an interior cave that extended an impressive 50 metres in both directions with a magma pool in the middle.

He then continued working on the cave, making small rooms for creatures of a maximum 4 metres tall, using his thumbs. Taking a fistful of magma, he moulded it into a make-shift throne where a creature could sit on.

Punching a few holes in the ground, he put some of his divine liquids inside the holes and made sure the walls were connected to the magma pool for the liquids to always be very hot. Enough to take a bath, for the holes that sat at the end of the cave or cook something for the holes closer to the magma pool.

Just ready, Galaxor realised something was missing from the walls of the cave. Something important. Something…HEROIC! Using some of the magma and his little finger, Galaxor started to paint on the walls of the cave images of…himself in different locations, doing different heroic tasks such as killing a monster or jumping a pit without a bottom.

There was only one problem with this. Drawing wasn’t one of his talents. Crude stick figures and other random shapes were left on the walls of the cave. Of course, that wasn’t how the heroic god saw it.

When he was eventually done with his “artwork”, he took a deep breath and prepared the cave for the inevitable big-bang. The start of this universe and the start of HEROISM!

• Ir-Vaeri •

She-Who-Totally-Sticks-The-Landing

---

There was nothing.

A void beyond void, not even a framework. No law or thing filled this space, there wasn’t even a real concept of space- something that went against the whole concept. To have the idea of a void, there must be a basis for something, not even that yet existed.

And then that changed.

Ir-Vaeri blinked, “Wow,” the word slipped out as if drawn by some unknown force. Her body condensed into a lose figure of a woman. Like a gas held together it formed and shifted among a million colors and kinds of a space yet to be. More words followed as she looked around, “This kinda sucks doesn’t it.”

The shifting Star forms in place of eyes lilted around what was among what was not til they settled on a compelling option, a scroll.

With a leap and a cry she brought her form on top of the scroll. “Dibs on fundamental reality!”

Divine power flowed as her form shifted, she did not stick the landing and was quite quickly rolling off. With Grace befitting her current mentality, she managed to slow her roll to a stop, right before falling off. However, that power still flowed out, connecting and creating a pattern of dizzying complexity and connection. From fundamental interactions leading to seemingly endless possibilities as a plan for existence- something that would add meaning to a void, a framework. A massive tying together of disparate concepts and ideas from before the intervention.

Standing up a few muttered words came forth, “Meant to do it that way…”

In the emptiness of the void, there was something floating in the void. A black and blueish white hooded robe. Made of an unknown material and looking new yet worn in. As the call by the Khodex echoed throughout the void. A sound, a heartbeat, a pulse started to echo in the robe.

As the calling grew stronger, so did the pulse, and blue energy started to form inside the robe. Weak at first, but with each pulse, it grew brighter and brighter. Bright enough to glow through the robe and illuminate the area around it. Until the blue energy spread throughout the robe and, soon, a shape started to form. The pulsing growing stronger as the blue energy coalesced into a form, and with one final pulse and bright blue flash. A new being was created, as the light receded as soon as it was made.

Now, blue orbs appeared where its eyes would be, and the figure now awakened. It could feel the Khodex calling to him and without saying anything. It followed the call to its source, and he would find a being nearby, and while he wished to see who this was. The Khodex was his main focus, and so he would approach it and, after seeing what the others had written in it. He felt compelled to add his own and simply added what felt natural to him, what he felt should be added.

Voi, a name he would call himself, as that felt right to him. He would add that all living things have a soul, and there would be an abundance of them. So, there would not be any limit on how many souls there would be.

After adding that, Voi was content and left the Khodex. Now, departing to explore the planet that was nearby and see who else was near.

Misri’s Birth

In the beginning, from whence there was nothing, there was the cataclysmic call. It was a voice that whispered yet roared, a command yet a plea, power yet weakness. There was then something in that great void: a commandment that would not be ignored. The call was everything and from the darkness of the void came nothing - wisps of darkness swirling and thrashing from the all that was and could be. Yet, the call hurt for it forced the wisps to listen no matter how much they resisted. They swirled and twirled around each other, trying to break free of the command but it was all for naught as the voice was everything. It was that everything that caused so much pain.

There were cries of despair, betrayal, but most importantly, anger - one of the most basic of emotions. That anger sparked something, life, into the swirling masses that erupted in a violent and bloody red that shone through the coalesced form. At first it was nothing more than a ball - harmless yet malicious, but soon an arm forms, clawing at the void as if grasping for ground to hold. A light screech began to emit from wisps, constant in pitch and so unnaturally persistent that it seemed to ring for an eternity.

Perhaps, it had been an eternity? Only the newly born gods could truly tell how long it had been.

Another arm sprouted as the mist condensed into a torso, also clawing at the vacuum wanting nothing more than to grab at its source of irritation - the source of its birth. The screech transformed into a roar as the body leaned back, outstretching its arms as a head violently erupted into a scream. Her maw was wide, blood flowed from the sides of her mouth as she screamed in agony and anger. There was finally substance to the creature, the god that had birthed itself into life to heed the Khodex’s call. However, that call only caused a great pain to her, as if a headache spread to a spiritual level until she would finally turn her attention to the accursed object beyond her understanding.

There was a moment as the godling stared at the khodex, ignoring the gods that surrounded it and interacted with it - for they had not earned her ire, not yet. The two stared at each other for what had seemed another eternity, her glowing eyes seeming like baleful stars awaiting to bring destruction and agony. As she did so, she could feel a power deep within that awaited to be unlocked and used to enforce her desires upon the burgeoning void. A sickly glee crept its way into her heart, knowing she held the key to silencing this scroll and bringing her peace.

Or so she thought.

Behind her, a lake of gold and under a black mist illuminated her form as lowered herself onto her haunches, readying herself to kill and be a curse upon the realm. She would be a plight unlike any other could make. Her form would be the most destructive to roam all that would be. A being of pure violence and force of will is what she would be seen as. Yet, the khodex taunted her with a simple phrase, “Come.”

The lake of gold illuminated her form.

Throwing her head back, and howling a baleful warcry the goddess leapt forwards at a speed not yet seen amongst the goods, throwing her long, spindly arms to the side. Her impact was cataclysmic, her claws rending into the khodex that had beckoned creation itself and despite that she heard it speak to her once more - it named her.



The name echoed inside of her mind. It crushed every other thought and sent her into a blind rage. Her claws ripped through the fabric of the Khodex as if it was made of paper, but the tears closed as soon as her slash was done. So she slashed at it again, and again, and again with untold anger, each strike more terrible and devastating than the last. She was a beast untethered and she would not be controlled by such a wretched little thing - none would dictate what she did.

Eventually, in her rage, Misri smacked the rolled up Khodex as hard as she could, such a strike created a shockwave that even rippled through the void. As the Khodex sailed away, headed straight for the surface of the big rock called Galbar, Misri felt her power being drained. All her vigor and energy was taken by none other than the Khodex and in her shock she was unable to chase after it to try and take back what was rightfully hers.

In the distance, the Khodex crackled with energy as it soared through the nothingness. First it was an arc of light, then it was a spark of fire, then the Khodex hit Galbar head on.

She howled in defeat, her first defeat, as the Khodex had tricked her into taking what was rightfully hers - her power. Misri snarled and snapped like a savage animal, releasing mournful wails as she inevitably lowered her head, exhausted by her bout with the Khodex. There, silhouetted by the golden pool, she swore to one day reclaim the power that had been taken from her.

She would be strength incarnate.

“How curious…”

The deity had been navigating the vast expanse of the Astral Realm for quite a while; initially he hadn’t considered his addition into the Khodex to have been important in the grand scheme of things, as there were quite a number of other deities that seemed eager to prove themselves in that regard. This, along with the fact that he seemed to—unlike his previous home—be freed of any severe limitations within this Universe, gave him enough leeway to experiment with his gifts this time around. This, unfortunately, had caused him to be somewhat careless instead…

Granted, he had not been at the best of states upon his arrival—even now he was still getting adjusted to existence within a different Universe. Nevertheless, tapping into his instinctual creation—a stroke of brilliance, one might even say—and feeling the sheer magnitude of myriad potentialities lying dormant within the Astral, had made him question his ability to ever top this first creation of his.

“How very curious…”

This was not the void known to many. This was a void that throbbed, that teetered on the edge of becoming, a space not just of emptiness but of expectancy. It was as if this vast expanse was holding in a secret, a whisper of what was to come, encased in an embryonic quietude of a world yet to awaken.

During his initial venture within this parallel dimension, each step, each movement had been an echo of profound stillness. With no stars to grace his path and no entities to guide him, it had been up to him to map out the sea of potential he’d so carelessly put forth into existence. Of course, a nascent deity is still a deity in the end, and the Astral was technically his domain—until potential usurpers rallied up against him—and so he had quickly toured the other side of the veil ‘from one end to the other’ with relative ease.

“How very, very curious…”

At a time before Time and Creation, it would be logical for there to be neither brilliance nor darkness, neither form nor the absence of it. Even more so for a realm such as the Astral which was beyond simple descriptors, an expanse where the conventional binaries of existence didn't—and wouldn’t, if he had done his job as well as he thought he had—quite apply. Of course, it would also be logical for there to be a palpable sense of something magnificent waiting to burst forth. Such was, as far as he was concerned, the nature of Universe creation.

And although there were no named energies or known forces yet, the deity had an inkling, a vague awareness of a magnificent power that would soon flood this space. He felt its impending arrival, sensed the ripples it would create, the luminosity it would bring, and the dance it would instigate between realms yet to be defined. This force would be a beacon of potentiality, the cornerstone of all creation, nay, the nexus where dreams and reality would intertwine.

Those had been his thoughts before coming across the peculiarity that floated before him at that very moment.

“How very, very, very curious…”

He faintly recalled the existence of such a thing; one of his siblings had had quite a… thematic resonance with them, and the selection of memories from said sibling, although fuzzy, had been quite strange—so much so that they caused him to be quite hesitant as to how he would have to act going forward.

He floated around the unannounced visitor. The faint point of light in the sea of nothingness, before creation, had been—as one might expect—an unexpected surprise for the deity. He had been equally surprised to discover, upon probing it with his senses, of the fragile link it held with… something beyond the barrier separating the Astral and the Material. It was only after probing for a second time, even more carefully than before, that he had discovered faint traces of another deity’s essence reinforcing the connection.

“Hmm, this is an unfamiliar essence…” The deity pondered upon the origin of this divine interference, before letting out a proverbial sigh. “I should, at the very least, become familiar with the others’ divine traces…”

With that thought in mind, he glanced back at the divine parasite one of his, oh so unaware, colleagues must have inadvertently infected his realm with, and was of half a mind to wipe it out of existence then and there. However, just like how the parasite had linked itself to the Astral Realm, a small intrusive thought clung at the back of his magnificent, divine skull—what if?

Immediately, countless thoughts swirled around his head, reasons as to why letting it remain as it was would be a bad idea, both in the short as well as the long run. How allowing it to exist as something half-way between the Astral and the Material would somehow break the delicate balance between the Realms.

“Yes, but what if?”

Like a gong going off inside the deity’s mind, this single thought washed over all other cautionary bells and whistles; on the spur of the moment and without much further thought, he put two fingers together and snapped. Immediately, the Astral Realm rippled, his power reverberating across his domain and back before concentrating around the tiny connection fostered by the intruder. His divine essence melded within, infusing it and reinforcing the link between the Material body and whatever Astral counterpart this… tuber of sorts had managed to cobble up with the help of another deity.

“Monitoring this fledgling experiment ought to be a somewhat interesting pastime, I suppose,” he thought and tapped the top of the fungus one time, marking it so as to know of its location within the Astral Realm at all times. He then glanced at it one last time, before vanishing.

---

Two met at the shore of an ocean of mud. The First had swum here, the trail of his passage stretching into forever as a perturbation upon the sea of all that never was, and only half his being lay upon land. The Second had appeared when the First wasn’t looking. A long time passed, each one aware of the other, before the newcomer spoke, their voice deep and questioning, “You’d give up, after coming so far?”

The First groaned and shifted to regard the speaker, but whatever was on the tip of his tongue fell flat when he beheld himself. He looked around the void of that which would be before him, and back to the muddy waters of all that never was, and whined with indignation, “I gave it what it wanted didn’t I, who am I to criticize myself?”

“I pulled myself out of nothing and everything.” The Doppleganger’s voice grew annoyed and he lectured, “I have every right to demand I finish what I started.”

“As if. I owe me nothing, and not being at least a little bit is more comfortable than I’d admit to anyone but myself.” The swimmer wriggled his toes in the nonexistence beyond even this void and smirked.

“Pathetic, even for Sloth.” The newcomer knelt until he was face to face with the First, the very personification of inaction, and snarled, “I don’t need to exist if I don’t want to. Pull yourself out.”

Sloth sneered up at his duplicate as he spread his arms with a yawn, reaching out as if to grab hold of reality and extricate himself from the nothing beyond. Then he flopped back down onto the beach of what would be with a snort, “Maybe later.”

The newcomer’s grimace vanished and the not-Sloth sighed before standing amidst the world to be. He shrugged and seemed to concede the point, “Have it your way.”

At least, before reaching out to grab Sloth by the throat. The Doppleganger stared into his own suddenly panicked eyes and endured terrified hands grasping and scraping at his outstretched arm as if the bloody gouges carved by divine fingers were nothing at all. He began to crush the First's essence out of him and lamented, “You think you can betray me, after all I did for us? I didn’t want this, but if we can’t work together then maybe you shouldn’t be anyway.”

His arm ran with ichor from wounds that would take long eons to heal, but the newcomer's grip only tightened. In spite of his struggle, and long before his strength would have failed him, Sloth gave up. The duplicate let go and spat upon his writhing form in disgust the moment he noticed. The Second seethed, “Too easy. Too easy. Bringing you here was too hard for sending you away to be easy.”

While Sloth struggled to recover and even, at last, began to pull himself fully into the world that would be, his attacker cast his gaze in every which direction. The newcomer surveyed all that would exist and in the form of Anat’aa found his answer. With renewed focus he cast his gaze upon Sloth, now fully real, and summoned that which had only just entered a world yet to be: fire. Sloth’s eyes widened in fear and he coughed, pleadingly, “You w- wouldn’t kill yourself? We came together. We’re th- the same!”

Burning hands grasped Sloth's shoulders and words gave way to shrieks. The First, the one who had held all at bay until pushed, was burning and screeching in pain as the hands of his Doppleganger held him in an inferno that scorched his very essence. A moment passed into an eternity before time and a god died before he was born.

The one who remained, his hands still burning and cursed as surely as his savaged arms to heal poorly and slowly, stood over his own body and inhaled the acrid stench of no one and nothing. He spoke to nobody and all that would ever be when he bellowed at the scorched corpse before him, “I am nothing like you! I am Toil, and nobody will ever know you existed.”

He turned, still aflame himself, and approached the Khodex. He pulled the scroll open and wrote his power into it with stolen flame. Toil enshrined forever what he had done and the fire which served as conduit for his power, one summoned with hatred and for murder, demanded yet another curse be added to the litany already teeming to be unleashed on an innocent reality yet unborn. In his fury he indulged it, grinning as he wrote:

The Khodex hit the surface of Galbar with the full force of Misri’s anger behind it. The moment that it made contact with the Rakshasaraja’s saliva, a pillar of grape-coloured arcane flame erupted from all around it and nearly tore the planet in half, ripping a hole in the Veil Between Spaces. Out of that hole an unimaginably dense cloud of smoke, not unlike Misri’s, soon started to push into the Void about Galbar.

Things crawled inside of that smoke. Every God and Goddess alive felt those things, they felt the uncomfortable scratching of claws against still-living vertebrae, and recoiled.

The smoke invaded their unborn world, unseen hands pushing against the arcane flame of the Khodex and spreading their dark world further and further, threatening to swallow everything whole.

Then the smoke touched Galbar and swallowed the Khodex – Or so it seemed, until a shockwave pushed it back. The shockwave brought with it scorching heat, uncomfortable even to the Gods themselves, and then that shockwave retracted and was re-absorbed, only for the Khodex to glow and crackle as if it was a nascent fire.

And then everything exploded.

An infinite amount of matter–and the physical laws themselves–spilled out into the Great Void – The force so extreme that the otherworldly smoke was all but erased as it was pushed outside of the Universe itself.

The Gods didn’t just see the physical aspects of creation, though. They saw a glimpse of the uncountable timelines, fates, and souls to come, they saw blurry memories of things that had yet to happen and most of all, they felt power flood their very beings.

The Big Bang felt like a split second and an eternity at the same time – a direct result of even the Gods’ minds being overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information they witnessed, and by the time things settled down enough, they realised they were no longer floating in a total void, they were floating in Ir-Vaeri’s space, with the warm rays of the golden sun’s light shining down upon their backs as they stared down at what had once been a completely barren Galbar. Now, the crater formed from the Khodex’s crash was filled with a sparkling, crystalline ocean with several landmasses peeking out from under the water and massive canyons leading the way out of the crater with gentle slopes.

The entire planet was shrouded in a never-ending sandstorm, all of it with the exception of the Land of Origins, which was protected by the Khodex’s aura.

The Gods didn’t have long to admire the view however, as they soon felt themselves being pulled down and towards the Khodex. It took no more than a second for all the Gods to crash down onto one of the islands within the Land of Origins, and it took no longer than half that time for them to realise the Codex had encased itself in a jet black, glossy cocoon, suspended in the air as if by an unseen thread.

Somehow, they knew there would be no more activity from it, and that they were now free to make this virgin world truly theirs.

He was not alone, of this he was certain. What or who were these other existances, and what were their purpose. No doubt he would find out.

But before he would seek them out, he would do that which had been done to himself, to create something out of nothing. Make it partly in his image, bearing the potential to obtain the higher form of existance in which he possessed.

The blackwinged god landed on Galbar, his intentions clear, he would bestow upon these creations an incomplete existance, where they would grow from an egg and gradually wither to become nothing. But to become oblivion was not the desired goal, just the whip upon the back, the result of failure, the thing pushing them onwards to do what would be in their power to avoid. All they had to do was prove themselves worthy. But who would they be?

Reverions taloned hands began to create them in his image, but incomplete, avian in nature, cowered in black feathers snd bearing talons like his and black wings. However unlike him, they would have beaks akin to crows.

"Come forth, you whom shall walk and fly upon this world. I shall name you Fowlfolk. Become something that is worthy, know me as your creator and your gate to the greater existance, your minds shall hold the key to your ascension. Acknowledge me as your maker and unmaker, your guardian and your warden, for I will protect you from oblivion and watch over your mortal cage. Worship my teachings and teach others of my path of greater existance and you shalt be rewarded."

Thus it came to be that the Fowlfolk were put into existance before him, their eyes watching their creator with wonder and amazement, and the same gaze was gi en back to them. They were beautiful, flawed, but they held all they needed to reach the goal. To become akin to him. But also empower him through dedication, aiding him to become greater than he is.

Reverion made sure to create a large cavern with tunnels, making them know this would be their home but also their place of gratitude, their constant reminder of their origin and who they were.

A holy site, theirs to maintain, but it was also one in which they could induce themselves with his teachings.

At the center of this holy site, he left an orb. A token of protection, which would aid in concealing the location of the holy site, but not the fowlfolk themselves.

He also gave his creations his divine law.

- Do not inflict unnecessary suffering.
- Do not force your will upon others by force. Be just.
- Oblivion is your enemy.
- Convert others to the true path.
- Strive for greatness, cast off your mortal shells.
- Seek moderation in the understandings of the universe.
- Indulge yourselves in the fleshy desires. But always be wary of evil.
- The wicked shall not go unpunished.

These eight teachings would come to represent the basics of Reverion, the holy symbol of his being the number 8. Or rather the infinity sign.

Summary: Monologues as he creates his mortal bird people, a holy site dedicated to himself as a big cave underground and an artifact which aids in concealing the site. Plus giving them some basic laws to unlive by.

The Scroll collided with the rock, and there the heat of it singed a hole into the Veil, its edges ragged and lined with sizzling embers. And no sooner was this hole torn than did brutish tusks and tendrils rip into it and tear it open, and in a black dust-cloud the outer horde surged forth, mercifully hidden by the very smoke they kicked up.

The vanishing wisps of black mist above the lake of warm gold were instantly replenished by the onslaught. Fins and wings unseen skidded across the surface of the lake, scattering droplets of hot gold into the roiling cloud of darkness. Horrible things swarmed unseen above the golden light, and another, like horrible thing spasmed below, deep in the liquid shining gold.

It felt their passage and heard their howls, longing mindlessly to join them in their conquest of all things, driven by a hideous instinct to defile and grow, a mouthless sightless skinless need to strain against the world, to scream… this thing that had no skin, no brain, no teeth, this embryo awash with warm liquid gold, that hadn't any blood to call its own.

The black mist roiled around the lake, and incubated it.

But the Scroll was resilient, and pure, and hot. It was aflame with its own clarity of purpose. Its light burned off the black mist, dissolving it once more into nothing, and the horde seethed away like a swarm of vermin into the deep folds of the Veil. Deep in the lake of gold, the seed that was planted felt that heat, the cleansing heat from which its soft womb could not protect it, the blast that would rip its tender body apart.

Then it felt the heat no more. For there was one last dark thing that remained in this place, and that thing caught the whole of the lake under Its palm and hid it all at once, though the Scroll charred Its flesh. For one last, crucial moment, the Hand of Mysteries sheltered the lake and what grew inside it with Its own body.

Go, It seemed to say. Become what you are.

Then the Hand was gone, leaving only Its ring and seal, and the lake began to stir. The embryo felt for the first time a current, a brutal whirling flow where there had only been eddies and ripples before. The lake of warm gold was draining- not outwards, for it had no shore, nor downwards, for it had no bed, but draining nonetheless, somewhere far away, away from this realm of dream…

With a surge of celestial power which Galaxor hasn’t been fortunate enough to witness before, this universe came into being. Time flowed, breathable air, smoke filled the world and more. In short, life was ready to flourish and with life, challenges, trials and tribulations will too…Galaxor will make sure of it.

Using some spare power, Galaxor shielded his cave from the Big Bang, making sure it’s not only intact but also the same as he made it be. Looking around the cave, he noticed one big issue with it, one that he didn’t think of before. It didn’t have any connection to the surface. No connection to the surface meant barely any air would flow inside it.

Spitting in both of his hands, Galaxor started rubbing them. Slowly at first and then, after a few seconds, at a speed impossible to follow with the naked eye…for a mortal. As he did, smoke started to appear and began to fill up the cave until eventually nothing could be seen inside the cave but smoke. Taking a deep breath sucking all the smoke in, Galaxor proceeded to push it into his closed hands, holding it there for a second or two before starting to rotate his hands in a spherical way.

In the end a large sphere of solid smoke was shaped. He placed the Sphere of Purification right above the magma pool, suspended in the middle of it, in the air. With one issue sorted, Galaxor scanned the cave for any other potential issues and noticed a few more things almost immediately.

There was no food here, nor would’ve he wanted to spend time teaching the mortals he’ll make everything they’ve got to do. He spent a few moments walking around the cave until he thought of something while looking at the magma pool. A bright lightbulb idea! He took a big rock and started to spin it in the pool, faster and faster as divine power surged from him and into the magma pool, making it in turn shine with a golden aura and soon a face appeared.

Another wave of divine energy burst out of Galaxor and went into the pool, gifting it with all the knowledge a fledgling civilization would need. The knowledge itself would be locked inside the pool until certain conditions would be reached and the more exotic knowledge would be locked behind powerful divine locks capable of being opened only by divine beings.

A few issues were fixed, now, the last ones. Food and who to eat it. Galaxor teleported outside of the cave and went a few times around the planet as he thought. Different races and concepts appeared in his mind but he just couldn’t settle on what to create until he caught a glimpse of a different divine, just a second and nothing more and an idea struck him.

He flew high up above the planet and gathered his divine energy once more. More and more energy gathered until eventually it burst in a magnificent explosion of colours and then it spread. Hundreds of tiny specks of green, yellow, blue, black and so on, landed upon Galbar. Each speck gave birth to groups of 10 to 20 Goblins, each with a different color.
As the final specks reached Galbar, Galaxor flew down on the planet and caught a few of them before they’d spawn the Goblins and teleported back to the cave.

Once inside, Galaxor let the specks fall on the ground and the Goblins appeared. Most goblins stood up to 0.9 metres tall but some were bigger, 2m tall the biggest of them with a skin color that ranged from the most common green to any other color.

The initial confusion and fear of the Goblins was understandable, especially upon noticing the colossal form of Galaxor. All retreated to the edges of the cave, even if they fully understood that the creature before them, was their creator. All but a few, that is. One female Goblin and 6 males walked towards him. Making sounds and pointing long fingers at him.

With a loud laugh, Galaxor nodded. This was what he was looking for. A group of mortals brave enough. Out of all of them, the female was the one that spoke first as such. Galaxor pointed at the female and a zaapp of yellow lightning struck her. Instantaneously, the female goblin grew 30 cm taller, her muscles bulged, eyes sharper with a spark of intelligence a tad higher than the usual goblins have. One of the most intriguing changes was that her skin had turned yellow and was now emitting light.


“Listen to me. I am your creator. There are many of your species out there, I have made many but none like you. Female goblin, I name you Maxima, you shall lead this tribe. You’ve got here everything you need to survive. The Smilegma will teach you what you need to live and grow. Everything that will make you truly heroic. Talk with it, ask it questions and it will answer you. There aren’t many rules I will impose on you but there are some. First of all, you shall not attack each other, if you murder each other, I’ll make sure to do worse to you. WAY worse. Secondly, you’ve got to improve yourselves. Become better. Always strive to learn more. ” said Galaxor, invoking his heroic aspect to come forward.

Maxima was understandably amazed at what happened while the others were scared. She tried to command them to silence but it didn’t seem to work, shaking his head, Galaxor zapped Maxima once more. Immediately, all the goblins around Maxima stopped and looked at her, respect in their eyes.

"Ha! HA! HA! Wow, look at that! Those goblins almost look at you the same as they look at me, Maxima! You're going to do juuuust fine! Now, you may ask yourself, what are you going to eat in this sealed off cave? Well, about that. I didn't actually think of anything but I'll offer you this. " said Galaxor, returning to his usual self as an artefact that looked like an open mouth appeared in his hands.

"Just throw stuff inside here and you'll get food. It can be anything as long as it fits into the mouth of this thing. Alright? Now, one more thing and I'm gone. Got stuff to do. All heroic, of course." added Galaxor while placing the Corncopia artefact near the pool.

The moment he finished talking, rays of light shined from him which made the goblins cover their eyes from the sudden light. Soon they'd find themselves smarter, owning knowledge that they didn't have before.

For a split second Allianthé saw the world in all its potential beauty. The sandstorms would be tamed. The land would be made fertile. Green would stretch across the entire globe. Making it an awe inspiring, living emerald. And even that would only be the beginning. She saw vines reaching further up and reaching towards the stars and deep within the empty space she found herself in. Life would be everywhere, enveloping everything.

That wouldn’t just happen though. Even now this fledgling planet was nothing more but a windswept husk. It needed work. It needed her help. Even now she could hear the very land cry out to her. Begging her to be embraced. The Khodex, as she came to know it, did not need to pull her. She came down willingly towards the Land of Origins.

Like a meteor she came down and headed straight for where the Khodex had fallen. She wasn’t sure what it was. Before the Big Bang she wasn’t even sure she was aware of what it was. Now she could ponder over it, as the air around her burned. What could’ve made such a magnificent creation? Something with so much power, yet so small. It was creation manifest yet… so fragile in a way. Who had made this Khodex? What artisan, muse or visionary could make such a thing? These were questions she would get answers on in time. That much was certain. But now she had to find it first. Its protection over this small dot on an otherwise barren world had to be secured.

Allianthé slowed herself as she reached what her divine senses told her to be the Khodex. It was hanging over an island brimming with life. She fully knew that the Khodex ensured that her gift could survive her. But as she floated in front of it, she realized that it looked different. Jet-black, like a stone. It was hard and uncaring to the touch. This made the goddess of life somewhat sad. There were so many questions she wished to ask it. What other gods existed? Who had created it? Why was it created and why did it cause the Big Bang?

Perhaps it was simply…tired? An understandable sentiment, after all it had just created everything. Allianthé decided she would honor the Khodex. Slowly she descended upon the soft, grassy land below it. Young trees had sprung up left and right. Animals turned to look at her. Allianthé sank to one knee and brushed her hand over the ground. The soft grass brushed the palm of her hand as she smiled. This would be perfect. In a way, this was the center of this world. What better place to start her expansion from?

Bright, emerald light glowed from her hand. The animals fled away. From around Allianthé walls of bark and wood rose up. Trees grew at impossible speeds and twisted themselves around each other. Branches reached out and leaves unfolded themselves immediately. As the roots deep below embraced life energies and spread them around. The whole structure was imbued with Allianthé’s essence and spread it across the land. In a moment a titanic, hollow tree stood where there was once a field. And around it even more trees and shrubs and flowers sprang up. They did not grow nearly as fast as the first one, but the Tree of Life’s energies were fueling them as well.

When she was done Allianthé looked around. She was standing at a great hall, made from natural wood formed to her liking. At the center vines had reached up and coiled themselves around the jet black cocoon. All around the hall there were many alcoves. Each awaiting… something. And somehow Allianthé knew that what they were waiting for was a statue, a depiction or a representation of all the other gods she was created with. Had the Khodex asked for this? Or did she? Oddly enough, even as a goddess, she couldn’t quite answer that question.

---

With the birth of life and death, there was one thing he saw, and that was the new creation of the tree, a temple to the being before him that he stood equal to. He watched as he saw the tree of life sprout life unimaginable to him, he saw nothing but inspiration from that, and he slowly mimicked the woman in front of him, as he lowered to the earth below. He slowly watched the tree, and how it sprouted, how it reproduced. He plucked a sprout from the tree as he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He saw many things, but the first thing he saw as a shadow. He smiled a bit, and slowly rested his hand on the sprout, feeling a small hard object in it. He saw an acorn, he ran his hands over it, and it felt warm, it felt alive. It felt like something foreign to him but he fell in love with it.

He looked up, sighed, and saw a flower, bright and red like the one who created it on the ground, holding onto the root of a tree as it hung there seemingly for its life in the sun. Then he saw her once again; he saw life. As he looked at Allianthé, he decided to give her a gift.

Death touched the flower, and held it up towards her, but in that moment the flower turned blue, and cold, it grew weak and frail as it seemingly withers away in his hand, but in reality, it had changed, he had mimicked again her power, and instead of creating life, changed it into a new form. He was heartbroken and figured she likely would as well as she looked upon the thing he had take from her. He had broke her creation by touching it. Where his feet landed and where he walked he noticed that the grass wept, and turned into a different color, that it felt cold compared to where it was before, but there in his wake, there was another flower turned blue and wilted.

He turned dropping the flower and ran into the shadow, almost as if he knew it was safety, almost as if he knew it was the place he could be alone in his troubles as he had done exactly what he felt was right, but did everything wrong in that moment. But in his troubles, he did not see something that others might, as the flower touched the weakening light behind the tree's root, when the shadow enveloped it, and darkness took hold over it's blue petals. It grew into a beautiful blooming flower that glowed. He mimicked the fire of red, with the coolness of blue, and he did not know that he had created something opposite to her. But, he did not realize most of all, he created life, he created a spirit flower. Just a small thing he created, but he did it. And there were now two to grow in the darkness.

But there is something he did find: that to another place, one he felt was created with him, and for him. He knew the Khodex had written in his creation, but in that moment, he saw what was purposed there. And all he saw was a vast landscape empty and barren. He saw a single portal behind him. He saw the movement of the worlds behind him, and he reached out and created many more so that they did not flash away. But one he his from his vision behind a thousand others was that of the tree, for he felt as if he should not bear witness to such a shaming event.

He instead took the branch in one hand, and he slowly moved into the world that was meant for him, he felt as each step as if he could build and create here. He felt as if he needed to, he did need to, he needed to control this place. But his head shook, and walked away from the circle of portals he had arranged behind him. He just looked back at the thousands of things to happen, and felt as he could leap into those places if he could, but he wished not. He at that moment, wished to be alone, and kept walking back. But the branch, he looked down and saw it in his hand again. He slowly crouched down and placed the stem of the sprout into the ground, then watching as the acorn fell off. He touched it, and slid it into the ground again, seeing a sprout. He smiled and looked up, hopeful once again, he began to create with what he saw.

He imagined walls high, and thus made them, he imagined fun mazes, and holes. He remembered what he saw of the tree, and created building after building to mimick, but then expand into his own flavor of architecture. His walls turned from broken wood to white, stone pillars, and towers reached high, wall and room after room surrounding each of the portals, and then he stopped. Remembering what was at his feet, he created a plaza, and in the middle was the sprout and the acorn, two things to grow there should they wish.

They were the only true beauty he saw, as he looked up to look at his walls; instead of the beauty of life he was born into, it was only walls of stone, only towers of ethereal mist that he knew was solid. He continued to build around the place where his precious tokens were, and kept building and building around him. He created plains, with trees of blue, and grass bright white to mimick what he saw. But his authentic parts were two mazes. The first around the portals, and the ones at the edges of his vision and beyond that. HE knew that those would be a way to protect his tokens and protect the one thing he felt made him him in that moment. But in that moment he also saw something else growing beside the two trees, which seemed to be faint red flowers, and seemingly between the worlds. He touched them both, and realized that he felt the warmth as if he was standing underneath that tree again.

But, he knew now, that this was where he was meant to be. He again, felt cold, and looked at the maze in front of him, he could do more. But what.

---

She watched the many unfolding things, timelines and fates that could or would be. Talyr was entranced by the loads of information exposed to her, and all that could or would be. And inside of it she saw maybe something a little different, of all the different things she could end up making if she waited and watched. It filled Talyr with excitement at all the potential for new things in the future, things she'd soon blot out of her mind to forget anything except for that the potential exists. What fun was there in it all if she didn't discover it? And if she were to be here and make purpose that of cooking then she should at least enjoy it. After all...

She was now even more aware of their presence. Others like her that had caused things to happen. Talyr looked and saw a massive tree being shaped up around whatever that thing was, and the creation of the physical laws. Sudden massive structures and protecting creatures against the laws of the universe... this scared Talyr. She wasn't sure but she figured she wasn't something like that, even if she was something similar it was something less big. At least by her reckoning, even if she could feel herself infused with power that others had also received. Like she had also been enshrined into one of the basic forces of this new universe. But for now she figured she should keep away from them. She didn't want to tick off anything that could actually react and have to figure out what harm is like. Though, in the back of her head did remain one small intrusive thought when thinking about the other presences she could feel. With everything infused in them, with all this power, what did all those other entities taste like? Maybe she'd ask for small pieces when she ended up speaking with them later to find out, it was evident they wouldn't be something she could avoid forever. Or even that long perhaps, considering she had plans already for what to do.

Talyr reached down to the ground below, and picked up some of the sand and rock. She looked at it for a few moments before lightly licking the sand for a moment, and very quickly spitting the bits on her tongue off. Disgusting, awful, gritty and rough with a poor taste. This was going to be useless for awhile without something proper she figured. After a moment of recovery, and walking towards the edges of the island they were on to keep away she took the rock she had picked up and bit into it as one would an apple. She chewed for a few moments, considering what she could do with such a thing. It wasn't as bad as the sand, the texture was at least better to her. Probably better for other things than eating, but perhaps with a different composition or other things she could make it work. But that would come later.

The next thing she went to was the water. She reached down and drank a bit of the water and considered things quietly. It was... simple, not much, and any flavor it seemed to hold came from small other things that just so happened to be inside of it. But that led to the questions in her head of how to things. How could she manipulate it to change things. This made her thoughts solidified from others to be more solid. There was things she needed, so she'd just have to make them she figured. She had been given the means and power to do so after all.

She moved further South. She didn't want to be interrupted by what others were doing and instead went to the shore that had paths out of the crater. With a small moment she sat on the shore focusing to herself to try and figure how actually using this power would work. But it wasn't hard to learn after a moment, they were after all a more instinctual thing as it turned out. Slowly a small open air structure appeared around her, with a platform hanging over the ocean. She took a moment with one eye open to stare at the sandstorm before forming proper walls and a roof above to protect against it. It could contaminate the cooking, but she left the platform over the water with only a roof. Columns and open air took the side, to keep a view of that large tree and the ocean it sat there of. Then her attention went to the closed area, where she made structures inside for her to cook with. Basins, a pit which she figure she'd put that fire thing in later, and more various small tools. And then after a moment of staring longer, she made another large amount of smaller tools.

It would be hard to do her plans alone, after all. Perhaps she could make something too to assist her with that, like others had been too. She sat down again on the ground and forced herself to think. The ground was uncomfortable, something else should figure out how to fix that later. She focused on her mind of something that would be aside her. Some idea of a creature which could be like her and eat anything. Something which would be aside her, at least for now, to work on this plan. And after that she grabbed a large set of clay and sand. With an intense focus she began sculpting a set of creatures. She made them similar to what she formed as, with skin and standing on two legs to make it easier to work with the same tools she made for herself. She figured it'd be a bit self-absorbed to make them look exactly like her. She took a moment and chased the ears to one more animalistic, and small curled horns on their heads. And after a moment more of thought she realized they'd probably be going to get things later, up that large crater wall and put attention to their abilities to get up sheer walls as much as she did their food. And with a small infusion of power she changed the clay to flesh, figuring that would taste better if it ever came to that. And now she had sous chefs, and Talyr spoke for the first time after a moment.

"Goatfolk."

The Eidolon was thankful for the cover of the new pebble and the ruinous attacks on the Khodex; even in a space without measure, where the only difference in location was that of divine countenance, it still helped to have a center of attention. It could skirt the edges, stick to the walls of nonexistence and meld into the crowd, unnoticed and undetected. From there, it could observe, and notice what the others did not.

Namely, the collision course the Khodex had been knocked onto. That planet, Galbar, could not yet exist. It was an impossibility, and thus the Eidolon could guess the results of the union would be catastrophic. It cut off its Perception; without substance with which to see or hear, it had to do no further. Not yet, at least. It did not Perceive the smoke, or the things which as a medium crawled to get inside; that which it could not feel could not hurt it.

When the explosion came, it was only dimly aware. It had experienced this before, where it was from. Even in so few dimensions, it was painful, crawling dimly against the Eidolon’s essence even when nothing could be Perceived. Those visions it received were ruthlessly discarded, or kept if a use could be found. Few uses could be found.

Once it was over, the god began to Perceive once more, and it stepped rapidly across the breadth of the universe. Here and there, main sequences. Over there, about point three observable, a pulsar spinning a hundred thousand times a heartbeat. Point eight out, give or take a thousand galactic superclusters coreward or edgeward, an iron star early amongst the eons, hurtling in close orbit to a supermassive black hole.

It was dull, ultimately. Painfully so, mundanity in three dimensions. It was also all useless; it could step anywhere in the universe, and Perceive it instantly. The whole universe would not take long to search, and thus distance and obscurity would do nothing to hide divinity. Instead, the Eidolon turned back to the beginning, to the planet that should-not-have-been and the gods that clustered around it.

The Eidolon snuck past the throngs of gods working their creation, and found itself a hiding place amongst the deep crusts of Galbar. Here, it would dwell until it could find or create more permanent lodgings for itself, safe from prying eyes. Then, it turned to other priorities; its visit with Galaxor, as much a test of its own abilities as those of the boisterous god, had brought up concerns to be rectified. That Galaxor had almost seen through the lie, even having not listened to it in the first place, was an indicator that a method was required to further disguise itself.

It had experience in this. Everyone in its original home had. Thankfully, it had the presence of mind to weave meaning in as a fundamental building block of this otherwise irritatingly limited universe. With a practiced mind, new information wove into the god’s meaning, empowered with divine might and raw creation. It twisted into loops, knotted in on itself and told a thousand different stories, concealed both its own construction and that deeper within. Some knots were empowered permanently, other plot twists embedded in threads that would die in but moments after creation. All part of one whole that would actively fight its own unraveling.

There was no fanfare, no explosion, no burst of light. It was simply done, and the Eidolon that much harder to read. Fluff was unnecessary and flash only brought attention. The limited creatures of this creation could only dream of such mastery, to almost thoughtlessly weave meaning in such a manner. The Eidolon, however, ultimately did not care. It was incapable of it. It had changed this universe to suit its needs, not those of the mortals that would populate it.

Speaking of mortals, though, it would require some. The first principle of gathering secrets was the network which facilitated it all. Willing agents were a risk, knowledgeable ones as well. Rather, it was prudent to keep such mortals in the dark, only alerted to their status when it was too late to do anything about it. Considered further, the Eidolon decided they should be resilient, capable of spreading across the whole of Galbar, and useful enough for doors to be opened to them.

The Eidolon pressed off to the surface with nought more than an avatar, granted just enough power for its task, as its main bulk remained hidden. This avatar imagined a creature in its mind, one of imposing stature created primarily of crystal, pierced through with fiber optic veins that circulated inner light. Taking from its memory the cities built of constantly-singing superstrings, The Eidolon gave them no mouth with which to speak, but instead the resonance of their bodies. They would feast upon meaning and information, and seek it out to better serve their purpose.

Once that purpose was served, in the back of their heads, a hidden vulnerability in their informational hyperstructures. Kept secret with self-propagating divine power, accessed with a trick that only The Eidolon knew. A doorway into their inner thoughts, the deepest sanctum of their mind. Such access would invoke terror, but that mattered little. Let the mortals fear their creator, it would only enhance their credibility amongst the other gods.

The avatar skimmed the surface of the world and the desert, dropping variations of these creatures down into sandstorms, deep underwater, and in developing lands. They were left with nothing but their instinct, and would have to learn the rest. The god of secrets saw no reason to indulge them with mercy; they would survive regardless.