PRE-SCRIPT

"In the beginning, there was chaos.

And from the chaos a vision emerged. A dream. Of a place where a mother could adore her children—free from suffering, from pain, and from evil. A symbiotic coexistence of all things born under the same sun, within the same breath, contributing towards the same goal:

Life before death.

Even the gods' dream. For how could they create without first dreaming?

Yes, the gods do dream.

The All-Mother, she who had invented dreams, was the finest dreamer, for she dreamed of all beings. Then she spent countless hours molding, creating, building... until that dream frosted the touch of her heavenly fingers. And she let her children flow through her world. Darkness and space, earth and water, wind and lightning, nature and creation, peace and chaos, Fire and Ice. And the fruits of her labor, she named "archads" for the spirit flowing through her veins. Her hope and love.

Or as we know it... Archaea.

But she would grow to hate her dreams. Because it was her very children who taught her the truth of dreams. Only in one's dreams were they above pain and evil.

Even the gods had their vices: desire, greed, hunger, anger, love. The All-Mother hated being a god. She couldn't stand the grief of it. It's no wonder they're all dead now. The dream is ash. The gods are dead."

-The Journals of St. Eisenia