>>5641135The vibrant smouldering remains cool into malleable materials, crumbling and flaking within the unvoid. Within the newly found space the Gods inherited. As <span class="mu-s">Cæza-Vilegōl-īnegst's</span> great expulsion settles in the wake of his siblings' own Awakenings. The cosmic energies pitter out and residual specks condense and change. The unstable energies settle as various minerals, ice, metals and beyond. Floating aimlessly masses within the grand abyss, the crude creations now paint the presence of existence.
Under the guiding limbs of The Grand Devourer of Nothings, a large collective of planets find secured positions within the grip of the nearest gravitational well. The White bellied and black edge Sun of Cæza-Vilegōl-īnegst holds a small galaxy together as the still violently unleashed energy speeds further and further away. Illuminating distant points of this new reality.
All of the Primordial Gods bask with the pale light of the nearest Sun, The First Born holds the heavens and warms all within such a reach with its rays.
Cæza-Vilegōl-īnegst acts first, having personally observed the development of each of the following Gods. He accepts his responsibility, drawing on his powers to show the others present what might they wield. The abyss serpent writhes his way towards the largest mass of debris, the cosmic threads respond to his mighty will. Two additional clumps of adrift materials pull towards his goal, under the young God's watchful eyes a large Planet is formed. Crude by most means it is little more than hastily clumped together shards of frozen meteorite and upheaved and uneven earth and gravel. Nay more than motes of dust and shadows line the crude uneven surface.
<span class="mu-s">Eyeless he turns to his Siblings.</span>
<span class="mu-s">The first words flowing across the imperceivable bonds between.</span>
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">"Oh my bound Kindred, Fleeting is the umbral slumber, Oh my blessed uplifted, Reserved is our miniscule number. Do you see how we are gifted? We shall build an age of wonder!"</span></span>
As if to punctuate each word the First Born continues. His long serpent tails reaching down shaping the black dirt of his barren planet into mirrors of his own being. Curling and slim bodies of cold scrap, or as close to his own devine shape as he could manage. Unevenly and without practice he guides the cosmic power to bound simple souls to each creation. A spark that rose flesh and life from dead soil.
The small serpents of onyx scale and eyes sprawl and wiggle in the long craggy shadows cast by the coarse planetoid. Sudden life forced upon them. Ignorant of their universal masters. Unaware of the grand audience.
