Where before existence was hardly a concept, outside what was once Keria’s position is indescribable vastness—an omnidirectional window of understanding into the tides of fate flowing throughout reality. It is not long before individualistic concepts and thought begin unexisting. Before the fury of existence given by everything that is, the witness starts to become synonymous with nothing at all. She wavers for a moment, then decides she won't be disintegrating, and she takes a stand against existence. Within the flood of all things there is a pulse, an idea, infinitely small and barely clinging to its own concept. Compared to everything it is nothing, but the little idea fights—struggles to remember what it is. Existence itself. Everything that ever was and everything that ever will be turned it's scope on them. The eyes of trillions of beings were on them, the features and gaze changing faster and faster, a veritable landscape of existence and everything in it, was passing too fast for them to remember. Until one face passed, ruby red skin, emerald eyes, and a mischievous grin on their face, and the face called to them, a silent plea. They looked right back, and they wanted to return to the face, get a second look. They started paging back, trying to reverse the flipping of the infinite pages. The tide of all things does something--maybe slows, though it holds no speed or movement. Something stirs. Something thinks. Their will for it to pause increases. The window into everything stumbles, flickers as will is imposed upon it. It flickers again, as the voice of one crying out in the deep night starts to rise over it's tumultuous flow. As thought and being turned inward, realizing consciousness, the witness starts to close off from all that is. An individual begins to form. In the center, a word begins to form, not even large enough to describe someone, or carry the weight of a being itself, but enough to bring meaning back. [i]ME[/i]. Thought follows soon after. And thought seeks memory. They soon realize that that was THEM. Memories keep flooding in, the face's entire life, and experiences. As pieces draw together a being becomes. Ikeriabelle, a being of absolute will and newly emerged Gray Lady, comes to consciousness... somewhere. [spoiler]So here's the culmination of around 6 months! Thanks again to Sylver, and Polycephalon who gave me the idea in the first place I believe, may his accounts rest in peace. As for why this is so short, I think what happened in length will stay....hidden. [/spoiler]