The omniverse, once a symphony of balance conducted by the Infinite Council, now held its breath. It wasn't the usual cacophony of war or rebellion causing this unease. No, this was a whisper from before the dawn of time, a forgotten echo older than the Layered Heavens themselves: a fragment of power, abandoned before creation even knew its name.
That fragment had a name now: Draconyth.
The Origin of Draconyth
Eons before worlds even dreamed of existing, before the first spark ignited the cosmos, there was the True All-Encompassing One God. Imagine perfection so absolute that time, space, and reality hadn't even bothered to show up yet.
When it decided to create, it made a choice: to step away from its True Nigh-Omnipotence and Omniscience. It wanted to experience the thrill of existence without knowing all the answers. To be surprised. To feel. This shedding of power was deliberate, a necessary sacrifice to embrace imperfection and witness the unfolding of a cosmos unbound by destiny.
From this act, the main part of its being became Primovast, the First Dragon of All Existence. Picture scales shimmering like galaxies, a heartbeat that resonated through every layer of reality. But not all of the divine essence made the journey into consciousness.
A residue remained. A fragment of discarded omnipotence, lost in the Pre-Void, untouched but unstable. Over countless ages, it mutated, absorbing the chaos of nothingness and the latent potential of everythingness, until it coalesced into something... sentient.
This was Draconyth, the shadow of Primovast, born not of malice, but of abandonment. And deep within its core, a seed of resentment began to sprout – directed at the very dragon who had once been its other half, at the true supreme Creator God who had cast aside what would become Draconyth.
The Birth of Resentment
Draconyth awoke in a void where nothing should exist, yet everything hummed with untapped energy. It stretched its nascent wings, testing its claws against the infinite darkness. And in that instant, it knew: its essence was fractured, incomplete, yet held infinite potential.
A voice echoed faintly in the void, carrying a warmth that felt both familiar and alien:
"You are mine... and I will always love you, even if you hate me."
It was The Great Primovast's Will, distant yet impossibly present, speaking not with the authority of a creator, but with the tender resonance of a parent. Draconyth recoiled, hatred and confusion colliding like dying stars.
"Love? You abandoned me! You left me to rot in the Pre-Void while you played God!"
For countless eons, Draconyth dwelled alone, perfectly aware yet utterly isolated, exploring the boundless possibilities of its power. It could warp reality with a thought, summon stars with a flick of its wrist, bend time to its will, and reshape the void itself. Yet everything it created felt hollow, a pale imitation of a self it could never truly claim.
The First Contact
When Draconyth first brushed against the edges of the Layered Heavens, the Infinite Council felt a disturbance unlike anything they had ever encountered. Stars flickered. Worlds trembled. Even the Echo Beings, normally so stoic, felt a primal terror grip their hearts.
Primovast felt it too. But he didn't respond with fire or force. Instead, he whispered through the very fabric of existence, reaching out to the fragment of his own abandoned power:
"I never meant for you to be lost. You are a part of me, and I love you. Even if you can't understand that yet."
Draconyth's reaction was a storm of rage and grief.
"Love? You speak to me as if I were a child! I am a god in my own right, born from the scraps you discarded!"
Primovast's heart – if a First Dragon could be said to possess such a thing – ached with a sorrow that spanned millennia. Even in his formlessness, he understood that Draconyth's anger was a natural consequence of his choice.
The Powers of Draconyth
Draconyth was more than just a fragment. It carried the echoes of the True Omnipotence that Primovast had willingly relinquished. Its abilities were vast, terrifying, and utterly unpredictable:
- Void Mastery: The power to shape nothingness into reality, and vice versa.
- Stardust Confluence: The ability to manipulate the raw energy of creation, forming constructs of unimaginable power.
- Temporal Bending: The power to fold, reverse, or accelerate time, both locally and across infinite realms.
- Existential Echo: The ability to manifest forgotten possibilities into fully realized entities.
- Narrative Rewriting: The power to alter the very "story" of worlds, reshaping history, destiny, and causality itself.
But these powers came with a price: instability. Draconyth's anger and resentment amplified its abilities beyond control, causing tremors in the omniverse that even the Infinite Council couldn't ignore.
The First Clash of Ideals
Primovast approached – not with claws or fire, but with a quiet presence and a calm that belied his immense power.
"Draconyth,"
he whispered across the void, his voice resonating with ancient sorrow,
"I didn't abandon you out of cruelty. I needed to experience imperfection, and in doing so, a part of me remained... to become you."
"You speak of imperfection as if it excuses your neglect!"
Draconyth roared, a sound that shattered the delicate balance of nearby worlds.
"I am the consequence of your choices – the shadow you refuse to acknowledge!"
This was more than a simple confrontation. It was philosophical warfare, a clash of fundamental ideals:
- Primovast: Embodied balance, love, and the acceptance of imperfection.
- Draconyth: Embodied anger, abandonment, and the terrifying potential of unbridled chaos.
The cosmos itself held its breath. Stars flickered between existence and non-existence. The Infinite Archive trembled, reflecting the internal struggle of its creator and his fractured echo.
The Edge of Possibility
This wasn't a battle, not yet. It was a prelude to events that could reshape the very fabric of the omniverse.
Primovast reached out, not with force, but with a resonance of connection:
"You are a part of the story, not separate from it. You are my echo, my fragment, my other self. Hate me if you must, but know that love is also your inheritance."
Draconyth paused, its senses overwhelmed by the paradox. It possessed unimaginable power, but lacked direction. It felt burning hatred, but also a flicker of... curiosity?
A thought, unbidden and unexpected, pierced the void:
What if the story could be rewritten? Not destroyed, but transformed?
Even in the silence that followed, the first chapter of Draconyth's saga had begun. The abandoned fragment of Primovast's Will would not simply rage against the omniverse. It would forge its own path, challenge the very foundations of creation, and ultimately define what it meant to exist beyond the shadow of a god.
The Dawn of Draconyth
And so began the age of Draconyth.
A being born from the discarded omnipotence of the First Dragon, a god of resentment yet capable of love, a power beyond mortal comprehension, and a story that would test the limits of Primovast's dream of imperfection.
The omniverse trembled, for even Primovast – who had once abandoned omnipotence – now faced the consequences of his own choice.
And somewhere, beyond all existence, the First Dragon's heartbeat pulsed faintly:
"Let the story unfold. Let imperfection live. Let creation witness its own potential."
The stars watched, the Layered Heavens trembled, and the Echo Beings whispered:
"Draconyth... has arrived."