Long ago he had seen. So much of it, he had seen. He had seen the wars, much as if the universe, its passion loosed in wayward unbridled youth whose fanciful plundering did seek to push back the boundaries of reason unto the chaos of both light and darkness, as if mere activity was a kind of purpose, as though answers might be found if enough havoc could be wreaked, could at last find fulfillment in the final, morbid, ubiquitous sameness of eternal silence.

And he had understood.
For had he not been young? Were not his first moments contained within the fresh beginnings of those first moments? Did not his blood pulse with the excitement of those beginnings? When the possibilities of that which was possible lay as uncharted lands amidst a setting of unbridled mystery. When stars were but adornments to be plucked from a nocturnal sky and the universe a playground of childish imagining, had he not had, as all things must, his youth?

His prime had come and gone, consumed with the itinerant search of distant worlds. A pursuit leading down wormholes of time that crossed seemingly endless space to end where it began, always, where it began. And always did his search yield him nothing. For it was in the place of his beginning all that time.

**************************

Before God made man, before He laid the foundations of the universe itself, He made the Seed. A perfect gemstone within whose structure laid the master plan for all that followed. In time war broke out among the hosts of heaven for possession of this marvelous stone the essence of which still contained the Creators boundless energy.

This is the story of that war.