The ground was as cold as ice beneath her bare feet. Above was littered with flames and dark clouds covered up the once beautiful sky.
Her once magnificent creation has brought itself to the most basic instinct. War. A war over something she can’t remember creating nor what her creation does. Zaya, the creator of the known ViragoVerse, has been around for countless millennia.
She spent her lonesome years wandering the grasslands of Tengri, imagining what it would be like if she had other beings around her. That’s where the missing pieces of her memory begin. Those were the brightest of days. Not worrying about threats or consequences. Just living. Those missing pieces of her memory spit her out here. The light of day shrouded in debris and death. Her most prized creation at war with themselves over trinkets they believe to contain a portion of her divine power.