It was a little over a foot and a half in diameter- the rounded shell of Ferroaxinite blending nearly seamlessly into the shadows of the Voidlight. It had been growing and growing and growing over the course of a cycle. But now it was time. Time to awaken at last.
That was the most notable change- it's surroundings remained dark, comforting pressure bordering on cramped and uncomfortable. Unchanging. But there was a change- this.
What had caused the change? Nothing had seemingly changed about it's surroundings, about the comforting void surrounding it. Yet it was no longer comforting. It was restrictive. It could barely move- could it move?
Mustering a hum
And then. Everything.
The Ferroaxinite had done well to shield it- too well. Though quiet compared to many parts of the caves, to a creature experiencing everything for the first time, all at once. The skittering of creatures unseen, taking shelter in the darkness. The dark of the Voidlight strained their vision, and the light of the Voidlight dazzled it. The air was musty and indistinct, warm and humid and sticky.
It shrunk in on itself. Stone connected with stone, locking together. And then, it stopped. Muffled, protected by the shell it had created.
It'd have to emerge eventually. But for now.
ding. You're alive now.
What? Who? Alive? You're?
Questions fill your head, wordless.
They tickle your mind like pheromones and feelings and chemicals before sinking back into the infinite void around you. No answer comes.
You are alone in the world.
"Where am I?"
Let's find out, shall we?
Wriggle around. You have a
There Is beyond your body, too. Slightly chilly (a word, a word, a star bursting to life), weaving around you.
A thin barrier before the Third, which is hard, cold, unmoving.
You flop weakly against it and meteors fill space.
Push against the cold, hard Third. It doesn't move. Your body is too soft to crack it.
Why not?
Why can't you do it?
This isn't fair.
You smash your radiating head against the crystal and--
-- The universe smashes open in a shower of starlight.
A tiny worm (if you could even call it that) crawls out of a newly-cracked gemstone the size and color of brown rice. They're blind, feeble, and so small they're genuinely microscopic. A nearby pebble dwarfs them. They raise their tiny head to the ceiling and recoil, the feeling of air like cold daggers against their flesh. But instead of retracting back into their shell, they faced it head-on.
Inside their mind was a whirlwind. The little parasite wasn't aware of the chiseled walls, or the weeping oilstone, or the arching ceiling high above. All they knew was the floor, the biting air, and themself. But it wasn't all alone-- with each sensation came a bite of the cosmos, the world mapping out in their head as heat and cold and scent and touch all around them.
Something instinctual filtered in.
They flopped around, hit something soft, and realized they weren't alone. Being a highly unsanitary cave floor, the place was crawling with bacteria and protozoa, all of which floated around aimlessly save for themself. The very prokaryote they landed on simply squeezed out from under and drifted out of their perception.
Somewhere along their struggle they accidentally activated their magic, though they were unable to tell without ears. A whisper would start close to the living planet, but without any words to base it around it was just a jumble of disconnected sounds playing over eachother. An unintentional beacon.
@Calamity