Act 1

The un-light of nothing stretched ever onward, leaving nothing but the darkness in its wake, and nothing it devoured.

Things outside the grasp of nothing, however, slept beyond it, dreams unlike any others plaguing their minds, but they still slept onward.

Nothing was not perfect, however, and it failed in it's task; such a task being the removal of everything and be the only one. It failed when it could not cover The Yawning Abyss of no end. From this abyss there arose a keeling scream. And six hundred arose from out of the abyss and into the void. They were horrors unto which no mortal eyes have seen the like, not before, not now, and let us pray never to come: the horror-things beyond mortal comprehension. And these were the First.

And with their ascent from the abyss, the yawn of the empty, turned to a scream, to a shriek, to the keening of the dead as the six hundred things tore their way into the womb of their birth. So was the death of nothing, and as nothing dies, everything lives, and so arose reality from the corpse.

As the fetid corpse rotted, maggots of it's own flesh tore through it, and devoured themselves and their ken. The First, as they devoured the carcass trapped themselves inside, immobile and helpless. The maggots devoured them, and then continued their feast.

The Endless at last brought thought to the void, and struck open the great Abyss, demanding it produce more, but the Abyss was servant to none, and instead spat out devourers, who brought low The Endless. Reaching and grasping arms tore apart the Endless as it was dragged into the hole, and thus it became thoughtful.

Even though the First had been malevolent, And the Endless prideful, Reality demanded a driving force, and The Abyss, was not of such make. And so Reality spoke, and so it was. These arose as titanic beings of immense power, with skin of stone or sea and veins through which ran lightning and thought. Such beings had power unequalled in all of reality, then, now, and forever to come. Though they were, perhaps they were not alone, for the Abyss devoured the remains of the Endless, and birthed forth The Second. The Prechronus were not alone, and their elemental hearts knew fear first. They could feel it, they could feel the hatred, the loathing murderous gazes of the Second against them, and through their fear they felt the hatred that the Abyss felt for them. So they forged shackles and chains, as so to bind it and control it. But the Abyss was crafty and wise, and would not be bound. When they arrived to bind it, they found the Second waiting.

The first of the second; Da'thamosh, a vast and spiteful creature, with shards of bone and blood running forth, was the first to claim the destruction of the Prechronus. In a clash of light and energy, the Prechronus found himself outmatched, and his head torn forth from body as limb was torn from limb. Reality shook from the monumental explosion, and yet the Second found themselves invigorated and fought even harder, and the Prechronus now fell more rapidly. Ghaalhoggh(Warrior of the Second, 7th Second), seventh of the second fought the champion of the Prechronus, Ilifos and found himself defeated. A smoking crater was all that remained, and the sun of the Prechronus claimed yet another victory. The Second however were wiser, and knew they would not win an open confrontation, and thus in an unspoken act, jumped upon Ilifos. Though the Champion fought bravely, and slew even yet two more of the Second, He could not face the entire horde alone. The outburst of energy was threefold what the other Prechronus had witnessed before, and Ilifos took yet three more with him in his death. In his place remained an orb of great light, and so marked his passing. Their champion destroyed and desecrated, the Prechronus fell back, and the Abyss laughed in victory.

The Prechronus were weakened greatly, losing many of their number. They knew it was little time before the Second destroyed them entirely, and so they found need at last for their creative powers. Taking the corpses of their fallen, and those of the second, they reduced them to their primal elements, and bound them together. The result was a Titan. Both Prechronus and Second, they were not as strong as either, but they were far more numerous. With their new-found weapon, the Prechronus advanced once more upon the Second.

Variun watched the advance of the Prechronus, and knew the Second would lose such a fight, so she fled from both. The Second prepared for war, and a war it was. The Second fought even more fiercely than before, and for a moment, it looked as though they would win. But the strength of the Prechronus and the Titans prevailed, and the Second lost many in each assault, until at last only Da'thamosh and Othuratzh remained. The Abyss itself was startled that it's servitors had failed it, for it was prideful unlike any other. The Abyss opened it's mouth, and The Second left the realm of the Prechronus, spitting hateful epithets as they ran. At long last, the Prechronus could claim themselves victorious.

Alas, their victory was not without cost. They were reduced to a handful by the vicious Second, and those that lived lacked the energy to continue, and their bodies decayed as did their soul. The Titans were lost, they had been created to fight, only to destroy the Second, and not for any other purpose. They wandered without reason for an age, until at last they found the Orb of Ilifos. As they gathered about it, the glow from within it seemed to grow, and pulse. Divine images and words found the way within the Titans, and they at last knew the secrets of creation.

Act 2

The Second and The Abyss had also been listening, and they also learned the secrets of creation. Deep within the Abyss, from the corpses of their brothers they made mockeries of the Titans, though they again were lesser than themselves and the Titans.

Elsewhere entirely, Variun was alone. The silence kept her, but yet she wished for something other to comfort her. She got the answer, but it was perhaps not what she wished.

For The Second were made in the image of The First, but they were of the Abyss, and not of the void. They commanded little of the might that The First had, for if they had the Prechronus never would have stood. What none remembered however, is the corpse of Reality, and the maggots that feasted upon it's flesh. Variun had wandered into it unwittingly, and she found naught but the bloated and sicking creatures. Fat upon the body and the First, they were immobile and helpless. But something within them stirred and clawed, and fought their way out of the white flesh of the maggots. It was The First again, weakened, but reborn.

Even to the mind of a being such as Variun, they were painful to see and defied comprehension. They rose from the corpses angered and hateful, and swept away towards the Titans and Ilifos.

The First's coming was proceeded by ghastly noises and terrible shrieking as it came upon the Titans. Though many Titans still remained, the First were still stronger than the Prechronus, and the Titans were slaughtered in droves. The Abyss had taken notice and though it had it's own part in the creation of the First, it knew they had no master. After the corpses of the Titans had been devoured, they would come for the Abyss. So it released the first true child of the Abyss; The Sephagaint.

They marched out, legions upon legions upon hordes of unending muscle and serrated bone. They marched to their death, and still more came forth from the Abyss. The Abyss hastened the defence of the Titans, but they cowered in fear of the sheer power wielded by the First. Existence seemed dead, before it could truly begin. It would have, save the rebirth of The Prince of Light; Ilifos. For the Prechronus had been saved by the few Titans who remained, their sacrifices for the birth of his body. For his whispers had not been only of creation, but also those of rebirth. They had worked their lives into his body, and he would not be disappointed. Glorious light burnt forth from within the gaps of his radiant armor and his sword was alight with white fire. The Titans hearts were renewed, and they followed his charge into the keeling masses of void and dark.

Light blew holes into the shrieking horrors, and the Titans threw themselves at the First with reckless abandon. Sword fell again and again into the shapeless mass, cleaving into it. Slowly the First began to give ground, but the little ground they gave the hatred in their hearts grew further. They fought harder, and more spiteful, if such a thing was even possible for the First. And then the tide shifted. The First pushed into the waves of Titans, and thrust themselves at Ilifos, in a desperate attempt to kill him. Thus they fell into the trap, laid by the Titans of creation, as they were known in those days. They wove prisons around the First, prisons of stone and earth, of water and molten rock, of air and cloud. Each First was bound hence, each to their own prison, until at last, there was naught but one. This was the one of whom even the other First feared, for it was prone to destroy the others of it's kind when they did not fight fiercely enough. This First is the only one to have a name, but names have power, and this one has much power within it. This one matched the Light Prince Ilifos blow for blow, and the Titan's own failed to draw it's attention. Each clash of talon and shade with glowing sword brought forth great sparks of light that devoured themselves. This one required a special prison, for even Ilifos could not contain him, as he was growing weak. The Titans bound themselves upon the First, and it's movements slowed, and it's breath ceased as they clambered about. It was naught but helpless now, weakened and beaten. In this moment, the Abyss struck, it's final card revealed. The Second whom all but three had been destroyed, burst forth from the blackened chasm, and devoured Ilifos. The Titans could do nothing to stop the Second, and they left as quickly as they came, as Thieves in the night. The few remaining Titans were weak, and exhausted from the sheer raw energy they had expended, and collapsed into dreamless sleep where they stood. For a while, all was quiet.

Act 3

The Titans awoke, renewed and of their old powers. They had before them a multitude of caged horrors, straining and forcing in a futile attempt to escape. Try as they could, their prisons held firm. The Titan's powers returned, albeit at a far slower pace than they wished. In the Abyss, it was not quiet, as the cries of Ilifos rang throughout, pain laced and shaking. Bound near the centre of the hateful Thing, his pure light was being eaten away by the vile contempt of the Abyss. The Second tormented him without end, and he knew not a moment's rest. Elsewhere entirely, Variun crawled out from hiding. Simply being near to the First had wounded her, and wounds take time to heal. The corpse of Reality had finally been destroyed, and she found herself alone again.

The Titans awoke, and found a time and a half had passed, and Reality had remade itself. The First were docile, bound and contained with deepening layers of restraints. The Abyss had been forced away from the First, and though it spat and resisted, Reality was stronger. And so the division of the planes had taken shape, the Abyss below, and the space above. They found the weeping Variun over the twisted body of Ilifos, broken and blackened by the time spent in the Abyss.

He was alive, but it was an insult to even suggest he resembled it. His words escaped his lips like the faint touch of wind, barely audible. He begged her to kill him, to end his torment, to at last release him. The impartial Titans moved to heed his final request, restraining the hysterical Variun. His death was as swift as they could manage it. Light gushed forth from the wound as he died, and it fell to halves. One rose to the space, and one fell to the depths, even further than the Abyss. And in a single moment, an age ended. The Prechronus and the First were no more, one bound for an eternity, and the others dead.

The space between all had defined itself at last, known as space. The Void was no more, and Reality was required no more. It's task completed, it had vanished without a trace. The Abyss was chained within the confines of space, and it was no more free to do as it pleased. The Second retreated as deep within as they could, and slept there. The Sephagaint became the masters of it, and they attempted creation. However they lacked the truth of the art, and birthed a sicking and useless creature fit only for food, and not even that. The Upper realms, the uncorrupted body of Ilifos, were as mysterious as his corrupted husk, and many a strange sound was heard from both.