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A half-trice century ago, there was once only one. There were a clan of great people, whose knowledge was exceeded only by their ability to create sounds, using the rocks, and the sticks, and the environment around them. These people were called the Watumites. The Watumites at once were at peace. In their calm they neglected to recognize one law: That fate intervenes with perfection.
The Watumites understood the world that they had been thrown into, but they did not understand the world from whence they came. The world where they came was a twisting nether of infinite loops and possibilities. It was an anti-sphere, a curve of the fleshy membrane of the nether, crying tears of galaxian sweat. On this M-brane, in the spatial regions around where it connected to the universe of the Watumites, lived their progenitors; Yugo-Haxians.
Before the beginning of time, there was a Yugo-Haxian who was referred to as, (if he required a distinction), Chip. Chip was unlike most Yugo-Haxians because he expressed a unique trait: An obsession with uniform complexity, unlike the Hyperspatial complexity that most Haxians fed on. He was drawn to the Well of Lucidia, as a fly would be to honey. This pool of raw reality, however expansive, was not to be conferred with. It served only as a source of light, to the otherwise shadow-entrenched Yugo-Haxians.
Then one day should come where Chip's curiosity would betray him. He would drink, like an antelope, from the Well of Lucidia.
(PART 1 OF 5)
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