Across the celestial divine holy planet, the gods arrived. To greet them, the first being. Something that could only be described as other.
Larger than any god, beyond the titans, greater than that which preceded them.
The encounter sparked the first catastrophe. The gods, having lived for less than a millenia, traveling the cosmos, had finally found their other.
Ignorant of it all, the first flourished their armaments. A thousand spears of distortion shot through the skies and a thousand shooting stars fell.
Malice and love unknown to it, sadness or joy unsure, the being summoned it's power. Invisible, incomprehensible, impersonal willess wishes blasted across the sky to take down the shooting stars that were the gods.
Blocking a second onslaught of that made of miracles, the strongest god, Aphosis drew their blade as he descended.
As Aphosis pierced the shell of the first, it's eyes converged upon him. It's nature became clear to him. It was a pointless battle against something only capable of violence.
As he was slaughtered, the gods poured out of the sky, and the heavens collapsed upon the being.
Those who'd questioned their purposes before, had found it then. Those who'd known their meanings, had lost it there. Those who gazed upon the first, gleamed something less than them all.
From a hundred thousand to only maybe a thousand left, the gods bore witness to the flames left behind.
When the first, Ember, died. Their remains became other. Their heart became the first dragon. Their malice becoming the first monster. And their dreams, becoming the first grace.
An uncertain amount of time passed. A god of cancer, sickened by the deities and themselves, aimed to set a new start.
She'd warped the divine earth that surrounded what had once been Ember's corpse. Weaving violence and conviction into the soil, she shaped it into form that resembled the first, and the soft earth became the first human.
Detached from the contents of its creation, it did not contain the vast, nearly limitless seeming strength of the one before. Still, it was an utterly unnatural being, in terms of capacity. Born with an innate sense of all things, having never been a child, they were perhaps even more mature than their creator, and did not desire for the continuance of their creators goal. Despite that, they were absolutely and utterly human. And such humanity, ultimately made their wisdom useless.
They were the first adult and the first fool.
For they loved their creator.
The first humans rose from the earth. Wielding their weapons of man. Somewhat larger, somewhat stronger, and somewhat more human than those of modern age, they bore the same cunning of the humans of moderna. they were slaughtered as they killed gods. Armies spread across the earth like locus, as the hero of the gods, survivor of the first catastrophe, Solaris banded the gods together against those who sought to slay them.
It was a display of force the young, immature, inexperienced humanity could not hope to challenge. Despite their knowledge, their will, the gifts they were given from their peculiar origins, what they aimed to consume was far too vast.
Unbeknownst to all, Ikon was born under the moon covered sun. Merely appearing, was a child. Or at least, a being in the form of one.
His first memory, was that of being cradled by darkness, before being blinded by the uncovered sun.
The silent child, having been alive for no longer than a couple of seconds, looked into the light. It was then. His purpose became clear to him.
Destroy everything.
Reduce it all to ash. The earth. The heavens. The stars.
Destroy it. For he was Ikon. The Second Miracle.