Prolouge

Before the Covenant. Before the Fall.

 In the beginning before the beginning—

beyond the constructs of time, space, thought, and matter—there existed the Spiritual Realm.


It was not a place, nor a point upon any axis. It was a breath held in the lungs of the infinite. A plane without boundaries,where no stars had yet pierced the darkness,and no shadows had yet known light.

Here, beings of pure essence drifted like thoughts unspoken—shapeless, weightless, eternal. They did not speak, for there was no language. They did not hunger, for there was no lack. And yet—they gathered.

Drawn together by one thing.

A sphere of radiant light, pulsing like a heartbeat,suspended in the nothingness like a single flame in an endless void. It was not the sun, though it burned like one. It was not a god, though it was worshipped as such.

They called it Sol — The One Who Illuminates.

Around Sol, they danced. They basked in its warmth. They sang songs without words, and time did not pass,because time had not yet been born.

But from far beyond this communion—at the edge of what could not be measured—someone was watching.

A presence. Still, and yet restless. Silent, and yet echoing with a desire unspoken.
It watched the way the others bowed before Sol. Watched the way their spirits bent like reeds in the current. Watched how none questioned the light—only bathed in it.

And then, for the first time,doubt entered the realm.

 "I am the one who will illuminate."— The original sinner.