🪐 Universe Origins 🪐

Before time had a rhythm, and before the stars had names, the universe was still — vast, silent, and watching.

Then, from the heart of that silence… something stirred.

A single being, unknown and unnamed, closed its eyes for the very first time.

And dreamed.

It was not a dream of light or darkness, but of possibility.

Colors never seen before, places never formed, emotions never felt. This was the First Dream, and when it unraveled, it drifted through the cosmos like a whisper riding the wind.

Wherever that whisper passed, new life flickered awake, and with life came curiosity, wonder… and the ability to dream.

But dreams are fragile things; radiant, mysterious, and unruly. Without a mind to hold them, untethered dreams gathered in great constellations, pooling together in invisible tides. They wove around one another, sometimes beautifully, sometimes disastrously, until their weight became too great for the young cosmos to bear.

So the universe; young, aware, and filled with love for their creation; shaped a refuge for them.

A harbor where unclaimed dreams could drift safely instead of collapsing into chaos.

Thus was born Dreamveil, a realm formed entirely from the accumulation of forgotten, unborn, and unheld dreams. Its rivers were not water, but currents of imagination, flowing endlessly from the First Dream itself. Over ages, these rivers would become the homeland of all dreaming and the source of dreams that touch every world.

The currents that now feed The River Oneiros, the boundless flow that threads through all of Dreamveil, were once only scattered fragments. But as dreams multiplied and gathered, their combined presence sculpted continents, skies, and seas. Dreamveil grew not from matter, but from meaning.

As for the worlds beyond Dreamveil; Earth, distant planets, and realms yet unnamed; they formed wherever echoes of the First Dream settled deeply enough. When that ancient whisper seeped into pockets of cosmic stillness, it sparked the birth of new worlds, each gaining its own way of dreaming, living, and unfolding.

Every star, every world, every dream traces its lineage back to that one moment when one being, in perfect silence, closed its eyes.