It was a story that happened a very long ago, unfolding in an age far older than any prehistoric civilization.
This was the tale of what had happened to a group of mayflies, born after the Initial Flame had set a radiance alight upon the Multiverse and hovered over its splendor perpetually.
Born in the Void and the foam floating following the incineration of the Flame, a simple construct—or as it should be known, a simple lifeform—was born unto the world upon the bits and pieces left, which would eventually become realms, and within that silent, boundless light.
It had no name, an aspect about itself that had remained until now, but if one had to pick a name for it, there would be no other than a mayfly. Their lifespan was so utterly brief that within certain realms, they would not actually last from dawn to dusk.
