Creation, but s'not as you know it...
The Platypus made her solitary and ponderous way through the universe laying her round eggs. She had no mate, although maybe there had once been one. Perhaps he was seeking her still as she wrote the story of their family that never was in the inky darkness of space and time. There were countless eggs, no eyes to see them except those of their mother, and she never once turned her head to look. All the Old Ones awoke to find the visible universe full of spheres. They had fallen asleep in an immense open space which was now either pleasantly or unpleasantly cluttered, depending on their point of view. Green had stirred first. It always did. Not that it knew it was predominately Green until it observed a new species, which it had partly created, evolve language and name colours. Green enjoyed sleeping less than the other Old Ones. Consciousness gifted time to observe, taste, listen, touch, absorb, and generally accumulate knowledge, all of which it kept silent about. Once Green had