In the vast, endless void, where even the idea of space had no meaning, the First Being drifted—no longer alone. Alongside it, born in the same incomprehensible moment, two other entities had come into existence. They did not speak. They did not move. Yet their presence pressed against the silence of the void like distant waves brushing a forgotten shore.
The First Being, stirred by curiosity—the first true emotion it had ever felt—wondered what these companions were.
"If they were born as I was, are they like me?""Do they know what I do not?"
And so, drawn by instinct rather than intention, it moved closer to one of them.
What it encountered was strange beyond words.
The entity before it shifted constantly—its very form in flux. It seemed to flicker between states of being, changing shape, density, even the essence of its presence, without rhythm or logic. It was as if chaos itself had become self-aware. And yet, it did not feel chaotic. There was no malice, no madness. Only... depth. Layers upon layers of something the First Being could not name.
And then, it felt it.
From this strange entity radiated a presence unlike anything the First Being had experienced—an overwhelming weight, an echo, a pulse of something ancient and endless.
It was knowledge.
Though it had no understanding of what "knowledge" even was, the First Being recognized it instinctively. Being near this entity was like standing at the edge of an endless ocean, sensing the pull of every wave, every current, every hidden trench—and knowing that each contained something real.
The First Being felt drawn to it, not by force, but by a quiet need. A hunger not of body, but of mind. It reached out—not with hands, for it had none—but with its awareness.
And in that moment, they touched.
As contact was made, the First Being felt its sense of self unravel. Its awareness slipped, blurred, dissolved into something vast. Time seemed to stretch and bend, even though time did not yet exist. For a moment—or an eternity—it was lost.
But slowly, awareness returned.
The First Being re-formed, like mist condensing into shape. And as it came back to itself, it felt... changed. Refreshed. Sharpened.
It now knew things—simple things, yet profound. It had not become all-knowing, for the entity it touched held far too much. But it had received a glimpse. A spark. A beginning.
With its thoughts clearer now, the First Being asked its first true question, this time with purpose.
"What am I?"
There was no sound, no voice, and yet the answer was immediate. Not spoken, but placed gently within its consciousness like a memory being returned.
You are a being born of will—a will that emerged from the void itself. A force that could not be contained or denied. You are the first spark of intention in a place that knew only stillness.
The beings that were born alongside it, the answer revealed, were also of the void—but unlike the First Being, they had no will. They existed, but they did not choose to exist. They were reflections, facets, currents. The First Being was different.
It had meaning.
Then came the next question.
"What are you?"
Again, the answer arrived not in words, but in understanding.
I am the record of all things. I am what was, what is, and what will be. I am the memory of the cosmos, though it has not yet begun. I am the thought before thought, the echo before sound. I am...Codex Noeternum.
The name rang through the First Being's essence like a forgotten truth being remembered. A name that meant a timeless construct of infinite thought and boundless consciousness.
More questions rose. The next was filled with wonder.
"Why are we born?"
This time, there was no answer.
The First Being waited, but nothing came.
And it realized—even Codex Noeternum does not know.
There was a strange comfort in that.
Then came the question it feared most:
"What is my purpose?"
This time, the response came not as a single answer—but as a torrent. A vast stream of awareness flooded into the First Being, not enough to overwhelm it, but enough to open doors it had never imagined.
It saw fragments of itself in many forms, many roles, each one a possible path.
The Role of the CreatorTo bring form to the formless. To give shape and purpose where there was none. It does not create because it is commanded to—but because it must.
The Role of the ObserverTo witness. To remember. To become the record of reality itself, a silent guardian of all that unfolds.
The Role of the CatalystTo spark change—not to control it, but to begin it. To set the first ripple in motion.
The Role of the MirrorTo reflect all that is possible. To be a canvas where creation paints itself. To divide and evolve, revealing the many truths that lie hidden in the One.
The Role of the SeekerTo question. To wander. To never stop asking "Why?" even when the answers grow silent. For in seeking, purpose is born again and again.
As the flood of purpose receded, the First Being sat in stillness, overwhelmed.
"How can I be all of these things?" it wondered."How do I choose?"
It pondered the question for a long time—or perhaps no time at all. And then it smiled—not with lips, but with its presence.
"Why not try everything?"
And with that thought, something deep in the void stirred. The first flicker of true creation was about to begin.