<em>Slowly It rolls, becoming aware of definition and edges. Edges? The thought ripples through It in soft undulations of... laughter? Yes, that's what it is. Quickly it acclimates to the existence It has just been given, looking upon the creator. Menopsis - the word flashed through the new being like a bolt a pure energy. Raptly It's formlessness gazed upon Menopsis, the purpose that had been given to It slowly worming through the amazement and into conscious thought.<br/><br/>Fill the Void?<br/><br/>It cast It's perception out, taking in the Void from countless perspectives, awed by the vastness of nothing. Such a task perhaps should have been daunting, but the concept of failure did not yet exist.<br/><br/>Slowly It expanded, stretching the edges of It's being and finding formlessness incredibly elastic. It stretched and warped, pushing as far into the void as possible. Eventually an itchy sensation made It decide that it had expanded enough. For a long, timeless moment It stayed just like that. Then without warning or formality It let It's being contract once again, exhaling the void-space that it had just encompassed in a long, rushing breath. Within this great out-rushing were a myriad things beyond counting. Things so vastly small they were barely perceivable against the yawning Void.<br/><br/>A ripple of irritation worked across It's amorphous being, unimpressed with the outcome of It's first experiment.  </em>