In the void before time and space, before existence or nonexistence, there was only the stillness — an unfathomable silence that stretched beyond infinity. Within this boundless nothingness, a presence stirred: not a being, not a force, but something beyond all concepts. It was the Nameless One — neither born nor created, an eternal paradox, the origin beyond origin.
From the depths of the unformed void, the Nameless One exhaled a breath that was neither air nor spirit but pure potential itself. This breath ignited the Origin Flame, a luminous spark that pierced the eternal darkness, sending ripples across the formless abyss. The Flame was neither flame nor light but a cosmic seed containing the blueprint of all that could ever be.
As the Origin Flame blossomed, it fractured the void into fragments of raw possibility. From these fragments emerged the first primordial entities — embodiments of the fundamental principles that would shape all existence. There was Vastyr, the Glyph-Warden, whose domain was the shaping of reality through ancient, living symbols etched across the void. There was Irra-Shal, the Weaver of Fate, who spun the infinite threads of destiny and chance. And there was Auraleth El'Serica — later whispered as Featherine — the Chronoscriptrix, mistress of time's flow and the narrative of all things.
These primordial forces, birthed from the Origin Flame, danced around the Nameless One's eternal presence. Each began to carve their own dominions — vast Hyperverses of interwoven realities and infinite dimensions. Vastyr's realm was a labyrinth of glyphs and runes, shifting and reshaping the laws of physics. Irra-Shal's domain was an endless loom, weaving the strands of past, present, and future into a complex tapestry. And Auraleth's Veiled Chorus governed the flow of time and story, ensuring that the grand cosmic narrative followed its mysterious path.
Yet, despite their immense power, none dared to challenge the Nameless One itself. For it existed beyond being and non-being, beyond power and even concept. It was the silence between thoughts, the space outside stories — an eternal enigma who watched creation's birth without uttering a word.
The Origin Flame pulsed, and from its radiance, the first sparks of life flickered. The cosmic dawn had begun.