The Primordials had thoroughly hidden the knowledge of the Primordial Beast's existence, and there was no mention of their names in any historical compendium; their memories had been utterly erased from Reality, and yet, the moment this Primordial Beast stepped through into the Great Abyss, its powers could not be denied or hidden.
It was not a creature of power in the way a Titan was, a force of sheer cosmic strength. Its power was subtler, deeper, older. It appeared as a shifting, humanoid form woven from the roots of a million world-trees, its skin like bark etched with the maps of every living planet, its hair a cascade of flowing bioluminescent moss, and its eyes—its eyes were pools of still water reflecting the first spark of life in the universe. In one hand, it held a pruning knife made of a dying sun's last light. In the other, a pot filled with black soil from which a tiny, perfect galaxy, teeming with nascent life, was sprouting.
