SickJoe

In the beginning, there was a war. A terrible conflict between two entities as vast and mysterious as the endless expanse of dark space. She who seeks true emptiness sits at the seat of all with mouths embedded in the darkness feeding on light and matter in equal measure, all sense abandoned with her name, a thoughtless tower of gluttony, twitching eyes, pulsing gums, and the ribbed surface of a hard and soft palate, the Great Devourer. Her tendrils stretched far and intruded upon the domain of a sentient storm where leviathan Crucius attempted to consume a fleshborn tempest. He of violent winds and volatile temperatures with hollow bones and feather and fin-shaped capillary beds pushed back against her reign over emptiness. The Stormbringer tore into the hide of Crucius and the two erupted, molten hydrogen and ionized helium stretching far beyond where light could travel, the fingers of a nascent god. When the volatile gases and violent winds grew calm, matter populated the