They were nothing but skeletons, mere elements, Weavers. They knew nothing, only carrying out their tasks in the void. And yet, from their mechanical gestures, the universe was born. Life too. Then, for the first time, they were freed from their duty. They saw what the world had to offer.

Feelings.

But those are double-edged. Sometimes comforting, sometimes painful. The first sensations were overwhelming. Some discovered happiness, others fear, surprise, melancholy. Their souls, until then frozen, began to change. And without fully understanding why, they needed time. Time to understand, to laugh, to cry. And naturally, life took its course. The life of the Weavers as well. And then, for the first time, they wove something other than threads.

Bonds.

Some basked in love, while others drowned in sorrow. Each on their own path, they finally discovered what it meant to have:

A heart.

In the beginning, only the World Weavers remained, lost in the vastness of the void. Isolated in their solitude, they wove the fabric of the universe. Each thread contained the power of the elements. Together, they intertwined them in a deafening roar until they formed but one.

The universe was born.

Yet, as magnificent as their work was, it seemed incomplete; an invisible flaw persisted. They remained alone.

But one day, under unbearable tension, the thread broke. It was a simple snap, a trivial incident that had happened before, but this time, it felt different. This broken thread carried the promise of an end, and the beginning of another. For where the thread had snapped, something was born.

Life.