"In the beginning, there was the big black. Nothing was, nothing would.
Until Zork manifested.
She created the stars, they shone.
She delighted in her creation.
She needed more.
She took the stars and moulded these
into lumps of clay
in her likeness.
Zork was
round and fertile, but barren for she was
not done.
The stars cried.
They had lost
her eyes.
She collected their tears
and gifted water to her creation.
She was
not done.
Trees, insects, birds came to be
but without one
to revel in the joy of creation
and protect that what was
Zork felt hollow.
She was
not done
She created us.
We are the clay,
the tears
and the light of stars.
Zork created the many,
for we are one
but innumerable.
Limitless in what we are.
Our heritage is Zork,
passed to us
through our parents.
They mould the clay as tasked by Zork,
into the likeness she has decided fits our individuality.
We embody all her gifts.
We are Zork."
Delwar the Wise, 2300 bD