In the beginning, there was only the Void

-- a dim and formless space that had no end, no structure, no color, no sound.

And, of course, no blue boxes, paths, or skills.

So how did everything come into existence?

Well, some tell of a giant warrior in a loincloth, wielding an axe of dreams as he cleaved naught in twain and thus yielded contrast.

Others say the holy man, stepping out from his palace of cloud and sky, fashioned day and night, and time and space, in what would come to be seven days and seven nights.

There are even those who say the world unfurled itself, born and birthed from chaos, a primordial deity without body or mind, a concept of nothingness that permeates everything.

Though the creation of the universe is still, to this day, a mystery, it was a fact that no blue boxes, paths, or skills could be found in the mortal world at the dawn of creation– Oh no, this was only for the gods, demons, and spirits, who lived beyond the world. There, they turned thought into reality as easily as waves ripple through a stream.

On a whim, these divine beings decided to bring their imagination to life down below, weaving together the air and flames to create elementals and nymphs, forming clay into humans and crafting dragons and phoenixes out of storms and molten magma, even forging golems, dwarves, and gnomes out of the earth.

For a brief blink of time, the world flourished with creatures of all shapes and sizes—dragons soaring through the clouds, nymphs dancing atop still rivers, and dwarves hustling through sprawling mountains—and they were more marvelous and complex than anything the world had ever seen.

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However, these wondrous creations soon became too much for the world to handle, as there was not enough land or sea to contain every creature the gods had made. War and strife descended upon the land and, with it, unending carnage and bloodshed.

But the inhabitants of the world beyond were untouched, uncaring, and unperturbed. To them, it was all a game, a moment of entertainment that could be forgotten just as quickly as it had begun.

For countless ages, wanton blood was spilled without hope of reprieve until a forgotten figure stirred in the shadows — a chased soul, disdained and overlooked by his fellows, shunned for a past misdeed. Denied access to the blue core's power, he was the most meager one in all the land, yet his mind was sharp and his nature cunning.

This outcast saw the people down below and felt a kinship that only grew, for like them, he was powerless and unimportant, forgotten and discarded. So for many years, he waited, planned, and prepared while the other beings feasted, fought, and satisfied their lust, hunger, and greed like all immortals do.

And when he saw his chance, he took action.

As Odin sacrificed his eye to become the master of all arcane, and the Seventy-two demons were locked in a battle for the title of the first pillar. As Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva locked horns in their ancient quarrel, and the holy man castigated his son to the depths. As Zeus carried out his unforgivable violation of his daughter, and Gaia amused herself with Ifrit and his kin in her whimsical way.

While these ancient powers among many were elsewhere, an ant among giants, unseen and unnoticed, stole the mystical Blue Core that gave everyone their limitless power.

It was already too late by the time he was discovered. The weavers had not read it in their silky tapestry, and the serpent-headed pig failed to see it in his visions. And when the outcast entered the world from the beyond, chased until he could barely stand upright, he did something never done before and never to be done again— he broke the core.

The gods, demons, and spirits were beyond furious, yet they could feel their unbridled power fading away like grains of sand through an hourglass as the blue core shattered.

In a fit of rage, the divine beings captured the outcast who betrayed them and cast him into an unyielding prison deep below ground. There he would remain forever at the hands of the son of the holy man, who served as its twisted warden.

OR WOULD HE?