Calm…Dreams never came to Morrigan as she slept, neither did any nightmare; the only things that existed was a gentle warmth, and the sound of something familiar; a soft thump she drifted through the deep void of nothingness. The warmth she felt was tender and the rhythmic beat surrounding her lulled her into a sense of security as time and existence melded into one singularity.
Something is wrong. Deep inside her soul she knew something was off, yet the rhythmic beat; a heart, and the soft warmth that surrounded her brought back a sense of comfort that superseded nostalgia as if it were the first time she had ever experienced it. She knew though, what she felt was that of being inside the womb of a mother, but it wasn’t her mother. She knew it had been nearly 24 years since she had been born, but it felt so similar to that brief amount of time between life and existence; cared for by her mother, relying on her to keep her safe.
Something is missing. Morrigan realized as the everlasting void appeared to compress around her, becoming overbearing and expectant. It made it harder to think, harder to imagine what was missing but she knew it was important, integral to her very being. The safety and comfort of the dark did nothing to fill the hollowness of a piece of her being no longer existing.
But it exists… Morrigan knew it was something, something that was large and very prevalent to her life. Except, she couldn’t recall what it was as her inner self lulled from the oppressive warmth of the abyss. It was there though, which means it existed, which told Morrigan that it exists still; she wouldn’t exist without it and since she exists, so did the thing that was missing, at least, that’s what made sense to her.
Anger. The space of nothing convulsed, as if displeased by her refusal to submit to the comfort it offered. She was jostled and tossed but in no direction, which confused her. She couldn’t see why she went no where but felt as if she was, as if in-between two very real yet non-existent states. Someone had told her something similar before, but she couldn’t remember what or who. The void shook again, pulling the back the warmth in rejection as she tried to grab at nothing, desperate for the security. “We are the difference between what is thought and what is understood, from atom to God, what made us who we are but you little goddess, you are a variable in the chaos of existence. The ever-changing part of life, a fateless soul. You have the gift to choose what you want to be, so make a choice, whether to be someone else or something else, but what you choose will be you and you will be magnificent.”
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Destruction. She remembered the words, but she didn’t know what they meant. She thought existence was a choice but then, she was forced to consider that perhaps it wasn’t a choice. Chaos. The largest system of checks and balances, the theoretical randomness that was nothing more than a vast network of cause and effect. She remembered something; Chaos is life, Chaos is existence, Chaos is disorder and absolute order because perception is not finite. Perception was abstract, immaterial. Perception was understanding. It made her wonder if Chaos was thought, except thoughts were also immaterial while Chaos is physical; reality.
Birth… The memory of those words, that existential moment, caused everything around her to shudder violently; nothingness shaping into fluid density that hurt to perceive. It was cold and painful, leeching deep into her core as she tried to remember the question; who asked her… and what did she want to be. The question, not what did she want to be but what was she? She wondered for a long time against the existential wisdom of the words. Was she Chaos? Was she finite or infinite? What was infinite? No. The piercing cold burned as she remembered; What was definitively infinite? Destruction, the end of everything to come. Apollyon.
