Like hidden shadows in the blackness of the

galaxy, her eyes looked over the carbon-desert,

enlighted by the orange-red glow of the turbulent pools of magma,

flowing widly through the liquid centre. But neither the deafening

sounds of colliding plateaus of stone, nor the penetrable

and sickening heat from the yellowish stream of the

molten materials, boiling up from the deepest bottoms of the

unstable ground she floated above, could touch nor trigger

her fragile senses. Her hands hung in the air and bolts of electricity

mazed her aura in mysterious and frightening white.

But there was no one there to fear her, and no one

there to love. It would take another million of the lifetimes

she had lead alone in the intensely silent darkness of the emptiness

of time before. The emptiness she knew by every inch,

while she travelled through the stargate, onwards to the palace

of her magic spawn.



And when it finally resurrected from the

ashes of its experimental and primitive predecessors, it feared

their creator hidden in the elements of the surroundings.

But when time went on and her children began to evolve

and mature their minds they seemed to forget or ignore

their collective roots, which lay a million lightyears and dimensions

from their homes. And most of them completely cleared their

minds of powers they had unknowingly inherited from the

double helix of the gods. And it was only centuries later that some

of them rediscovered their alienated origin, and began to breed

the magic they all carried hidden deeply in the id of the mind,

still unharmed. And these chosen few would give birth to a powerful

line of the dominion, destined to change the world once and

for all into what her creator had meant it to be,

when she began this task in her youthful years.