Once upon a time, within a small mountain range, there was a dull, gray rock. This rock was just a normal rock; the most mundade of its kind. This particular one lied on top of a cliff, clustered up between thousands of others, seemingly, unremarkable stones. With the size of a full-grown man's knuckle, it was neither the biggest nor the smallest of the bunch. As always, time passed. Spring to Summer, Summer to Autumn, Autumn to Winter, and Winter to Spring... in an eternal cycle. Plants were scorched by the sun and frozen by the wind until they withered up and died. Trees bore the brunt of nature's frenzied breath, losing all hope with their spines cracked in half. Animals too were targets of fate. In the fierce struggle of the fittest, some of them were killed, while others survived, but all eventually died. However, the first-sized, mundane stone, like it had done for so many years already, still lied on top of the cliff, unmoving, but not destroyed.
One day, a bald monk passed by. While his brown robe was dusty and dirty from his travels, his eyes gleamed with a mysterious, thoughful shine as he stood on top of the cliff and watched out. His gaze darted across the countless of stones before picking one and throwing it down to the forest below. Mumbling something, he smiled, and bowed first to the rocks and then to the sky, leaving shortly thereafter. Years later, the bald man achieved immortality and became an immortal under an ancient boodhi. He created buddhism and became its father, establishing eight tracendant truths for generations of generations to practice. The stone he had thrown down from the cliff was, in fact... not the fist-sized stone, but another one. The mundande first-sized stone still lied there like always.
More times passed. One day, thunder raged in the sky above, coiling like snakes, and storms blew, booming loudly. Lightning stuck the cliff, but the stone once again remained unscated, safe and sound from danger. Another day, after the terrfiying storm had passed, a woman came by. The state of her tattered clothes were even worse than those of bald monk who came previously, torned and ravaged. Unkempt black hair cascaded down to her shoulders from her almost unrecognisable, dirty face, wadn was wantomly tied together in a mess. She looked at the sky and teared up, rivers of tears flowing down her two chins. Stroking her belly that had not an ounce of fat to boast for, she closed her eyes and took a leap, jumping down from the cliff. A shriek sounded out from below, echoing.
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One of the suicidal woman's tears had fallen down to the the now ancient, fist-sized stone, hitting it with a small, 'Pa!'. Strangely, the tear didn't follow along the stone's surface, rolling off, but instead did something that never had happened before. Even ancient gods would have been astounded to see what happened here in one of the mortal planens of existence. Perhaps, there was no a single one in the entire universe that could explain this miracoulous pehonomena about to occur. The tear, believe it or not, slowly entered through stones dull, gray exterior, and dissapeared within as if it never had been there in the first place.
Thousands of years went by without anything happening. It was first after a million years that something changed. The stone, which had lied unmoving and without life for so long, wobbled. The movement was, at first, over after a second or so, but as even more time passed, the shaking movments turned from erratic to daily, and from daily to constantly. One fated day, as the sun stood high in the sky, shining down and giving a wake up call to all living things in the world, a crack resounded. The stone, that had existed for so long without being destroyed, slowly but surely crumbled into pieces. In the stone fragments sat a little monkey, blinking with curious, golden colored eyes. The small creature, that barely reached up to a human's ankle, was made wholy from stone, and yet, was as living as a normal monkey.