ABOUT

In contrast to the instability of the Chaos, the First Reality stood calm before the Monads – such was the essence of actualised existence. 

Within, they saw a creation of majesty and wonder: crystal seas to scorching deserts, towering mountains to imposing canyons, immense glaciers to beaches of golden sands, frozen tundra to blackened volcanoes.

Time, Fate, and Death, as authors of the First Reality’s governing laws, directed all.

Time imposed the relentless march of epochs and moments—each rising and setting of the sun bringing order to every thought and deed. For the first time, the Monad’s witnessed an unfolding history and a clouded future.

Fate wove the threads of weal and woe—a weave of destiny and desire so intricate that even the Monads could not escape its design. They learnt of the burden and excitement that purpose gave to their every choice and action.

Death bestowed the subtle gift of entropy—vibrant decay and mutable inevitability flowing through the heart of actualised existence. A gift so seductive, that even the Monads found themselves drawn to it.

Such were the Aeons: architects of laws that even the Monads were slaves to for as long as they remained within the First Reality. 

Yet the Monads did not notice their power ebb, for they were too beguiled by the First Reality as they stood in awe at its calmness. 

Then, upon the land, amongst the clouds, and within the water, the Monads witnessed creations unlike their own. These creations, unlike the Monads’ own static ones, took on a multitude of dynamic forms and patterns, pulsed with their own energy, and moved with their own intent. 

The Monads questioned Law as to the nature of these creations.

‘They are Souls,’ answered Law, ‘however, unlike you, they did not awaken within the Chaos and know only of this place. I have brought them here and given them actuality: a fleeting, temporal state. 

‘At its end, they will return to the Chaos to slumber once more – their potential eternal, their actuality transmigratory. They will exist and expire as you desire. They will serve you, worship you, and respect you, but only if you prove worthy: that is your new battle, that is the game.’

And so, the Monads continued their battles, with the actualised Souls warring on their behalf for dominance and victory.

Time’s presence granted order to the battles. Fate’s influence gave each battle purpose, where even loss could lead to victory. All the while, Death waited silently to usher each Soul back to the eternal Chaos, there to rest and await their next actualisation.

Thus, the Monads learnt of life and death, and what it meant to rule. They revelled in their dominion, and many transformed the First Reality and the actualised existence therein to satisfy their whims. 

Time passed and the Monad’s battles raged on, but still none emerged victorious. 

‘The game is flawed!’ cried the Monads. ‘Law, you have failed us.’ Silence answered. ‘This battleground holds no interest for us now, and so we will leave.’ 

And so, the Monads abandoned the First Reality and returned to the Chaos, freeing themselves from the constraints of the Aeons.

Reinvigorated by the Chaos, the Monads reignited their battles with renewed zeal. Yet, an emptiness grew within them for they had grown accustomed to being worshipped.

Yet, though they had learnt much of actualised existence from their time within the First Reality, creating it as Law had done would require forging their own Realities and none knew how. 

Thus, the Monads sought the sleeping Souls hoping to regain their companionship but found they could not rouse them for they were lost to the Chaos. Many Monads wept and turned away, but not all were so disheartened and spoke to the sleeping Souls. They recounted their exploits in the Chaos and the First Reality, driven by a desire to be heard and to fill the emptiness within.

Some of the Souls stirred, yet did not awaken; they walked in their sleep, aware only of the Chaos that had been revealed to them. While the Monads’ words gave these Souls power over the Chaos, it was in pale imitation to their own. Thus, these Souls served as the Monads’ Chosen Ones – though they lacked the warmth possessed by the actualised Souls, the spark within now diminished. 

Consequently, the emptiness within the Monads’ hearts grew and memories of the First Reality compelled them to return. 

Upon their approach, they were met with a resplendent, eternal calmness: Law. ‘I have returned, and to what?’ demanded Law, ‘to a land without rulers and a battleground run amok.’

‘You abandoned us; we had no choice but to leave,’ the Monads protested.

Law grew angry. ‘Abandoned you! You are Monad, and yet you lament your loneliness? My Aeons have told me of what transpired; in your absence, the actualised Souls have continued your battles, yet grown and developed without guidance. 

‘So look upon your battleground and see how the Souls have changed—return to your rightful place!’ ordered Law.

The Monads did as they were ordered and moved across the First Reality. They looked upon the Souls within and saw that they were indeed different than before. 

The actualised Souls had spread across the land; civilisations had risen and fallen where some still worshipped the Monads yet others had sought their own destinies. There were even those that had learnt to draw upon the Chaos within themselves, crafting magic and miracles of their own devising.

Law commanded, ‘Though this Reality has changed, it is still yours to rule; return to your battles and regain the respect of the Souls within.’ 

And so, the Monads returned to their battles, while Law and the Aeons departed to journey through the Chaos: venturing deep within, they encountered a region so tumultuous, it surpassed all they had confronted before. 

Seemingly impenetrable, this region repelled Law and the Aeons as if the very existences were anathema to it. Yet they pushed on, and though the savage maelstrom threatened to tear them asunder, their discipline and resolve sheltered them. 

Emerging on the other side, Law and the Aeons were greeted by a serene calmness. As they looked upon its sublime and majestic tranquillity, peace washed over them. 

They moved amidst its stillness, listened to its silence, and sought out its maker, but they found none – they were in a natural expanse of harmony.

Law and the Aeons, weary from their journey, basked in the sublime harmony before them. 

Finally, Law exclaimed, ‘I feel at peace within this place. I shall make this my new home far from the others.’ The Aeons nodded in agreement as they too tired of the Monads.

Together, Law and the Aeons wove their essence into the very fabric of the Second Reality, establishing order and harmony.

Law declared, ‘We shall not interfere with this Reality, nor allow others to do so. It will flourish or fail through the desires and deeds of those within. Let there be order!’ 

A wave of elemental energy surged forth—galaxies arose, nebulae formed, stars ignited, and planets began to turn in their orbits. 

In time, sleeping Souls began to flow to and from the Second Reality, arousing the suspicions and interests of the Monads. Thus, they investigated, yet were unable to penetrate the intense Chaos enclosing it.

‘Law, where are you? We require your assistance,’ the Monads cried out. 

Emerging from the intense Chaos, Law replied, ‘I am here. What is it you desire?’ 

‘What is this place; why can we not enter? What have we done wrong?’ 

‘This is my home and refuge. You are not welcome here for you bring only the Chaos. I forbid you from entering.’ With these words, Law turned away and abandoned the Monads.

Baffled as to why Law had abandoned them, the Monads surmised the Second Reality must contain Law’s secrets. They turned to the sleeping Souls that could enter – those who had borne witness to Law’s glory.

Some sought to enter alongside the Souls, but found they could not. Some sought to replace the Souls with their own Chosen Ones, but found they could not. 

Others studied the impenetrable threshold of the Second Reality and gradually learnt of the division between the Chaos and stillness. 

They discovered not only how to forge their own Realities but also a profound truth—Aeons were not the architects of a Reality’s laws, but manifestations of them. The Aeons they had encountered – Fate, Time, and Death – were not Monads or even Chosen Ones, but Law’s own creations. Law had created the very entities who had curtailed their power.

With this knowledge, some left to forge their own Realities far from Law—though always were they pale imitations of Law’s glory. 

Others turned again to the sleeping Souls hoping to recreate Law’s glory. They sought to rouse them as Chosen Ones, eager to glean insights from their experiences within the Second Reality. Yet, though some stirred, they were unable to remember what they had witnessed—their minds addled by the Chaos, open only to the Monad’s words.

And so, the Monads peered deep into the sleeping Souls: past their slumber, past their confusion, and towards the transcendent, luminous spark at the heart of all Souls. Within, the Monads found what they sought and it enraptured them: fragmented memories offering glimpses of Law’s glory. 

Euphoric with their new insights, these Monads set off to forge their own Realities—though always were they pale imitations of Law’s glory.

Still, the Monads continued their battles but now with new purpose: learn the secrets of Law’s glory and that of each other’s Realities through the memories of the sleeping Souls. 

At first, each of the Monads interfered in the Realities they forged. But as time wore on, many once again grew bored and abandoned their creations. Others, either concerned for or even fearful of the actualised Souls within, appointed their Chosen Ones as gods, angels, daemons, spirits, and all manner of other celestial guardians to watch over them.

Pause for a moment dear reader, for before we continue, you must know this: when I speak of the Chaos and Law, I speak not just of a time long past but of the here and now, and all that which may yet be.

For in their ceaseless rivalry the Monads yet persist in forging Realities, drawing in Souls to actuality amid a myriad of existences. And as each Soul traverses these Realities – moving from existence to existence – the Monads study their memories seeking to eclipse not just Law’s glory but also the feats and accomplishments of one another.

Yet, the Monads are profoundly mistaken about the truth of what they behold—they witness not memories, but dreams. Dreams illuminated by that sublime spark of the Chaos residing in the heart of every Soul.

So why, when the sublime spark resides deep within themselves, do the Monads confuse dreams for memories? Perhaps it is because, for the Monads, will is truth – ask yourself: if all you can envision appeared before you, would you still dream?

And yet, for the sleeping Souls alone and adrift in the Chaos, actualised as a myriad of existences across untold Realities, all they have are their dreams.

Dreams sown by the Chaos and nurtured by each journey through the Realities which, in pursuit of Law’s glory, are themselves forged as reflections of dreams.

And so, the Monads seek to understand Law, the Second Reality, and the sleeping Souls – perhaps even unwittingly themselves – as they continue to forge endless Realities.

Vast metropolises sprawl ever outward, as individuals fight with great strength and all manner of incredible powers amongst towering skyscrapers and neglected slums.

Once-prosperous civilisations fall as the dead crawl from their graves, rising to outnumber the living like a plague upon the land.

Ideas take form and passions gain substance amidst sweeping hills of madness and abyssal chasms of bliss as psyches intertwine in sonorous melodies of thought and emotion.

Elsewhere, corpse-strewn battlefields erupt with the clash of steel and blood-soaked ideology, as vile armies and holy forces engage in their ceaseless conflicts.

Colossal spaceships venture forth to brave the cold void between stars, while planets and civilisations burn in the flames of war.

All the while, deep beneath storm-swept ocean waves, lie realms of perpetual dusk where time marches not to a celestial beat but the ebb and flow of enduring currents.

Yet beyond the fantastical, the mundane may too hold adventure: ordinary moments often beholding profound truth and beauty.

The value of friendship and family, the despair of loss and grief that yet affirms the heart, or the miracle of Souls reuniting after lifetimes apart, drawn together throughout eternity.

Hence, dreams are the genesis and lifeblood of all creation—dreams give rise to Realities, and Realities, in turn, give rise to dreams.

The eternal cycle of creation and destruction, transcended by an eternal cycle of renewal and rebirth.

A cycle driven by each and every Soul burning with the sublime and primordial power at the heart of all legends and stories.

These are the Realities of Oneirostoria—the manifestation of dreams.