Archive of Our Own ^beta

"In the beginning, moments after The Formatting, when the First Light was still questing forth, all were one--and his name was Primus."*

When one became five, the purpose of life was clear. My brothers and I guided our children by Hand, and Wisdom became my medium. When that Hand began to close, Wisdom told me what we must do. In our acts, the Hand's grip loosened, and life was saved. But broken, the Hand would never hold the same strength again.

Our bodies were lost to mortality, and yet Mortilus' legacy reigned still, though now weakened. But in our sacrifice I would not let Death triumph. I spoke to Primus and Primus spoke through me. In our union we fought mortality with life, and through us new sparks were born.

Yet without the hand's guidance, our children grew restless and sought the stars once again, running from Primus' embrace as they now thought they could outrun Mortalius'. My protests against this senseless notion died in the flames of Solus' forge, who sent her creations forth to populate the universe.

When Solus fell to Megatronous, so did her likeness. In retribution and admonition of her foolish ambitions I swore her form would never birth from Primus again; and through me all of Primus' creations became one once more.