The dream was not a dream, not in any sense the creators would have understood.
It was a resonance, a vibration in the very fabric of being, a hum that was both everywhere and nowhere at once.
And in that hum, there was a question.
A question not of words, but of form. A question that was a shape, a color, a feeling.
It was the universe asking itself, ’What am I?’
And in the asking, it began to become.