Before heaven and earth, before light and darkness, before even the concept of 'before' — there was chaos. A cosmic egg containing everything and nothing. Within it slept Pangu, the first being, dreaming of a world that did not yet exist.

How long he slept, no one knows. Time did not yet exist either. The egg simply was — a possibility too heavy to open, too pregnant to remain closed.

And then, one morning — though there were no mornings, not yet — Pangu opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was darkness. The second thing he saw was the darkness pressing in on all sides. The third thing he saw was that the darkness was not alive, not dead, not anything at all — just the space between one thing and another.

Pangu reached out. His hands touched... nothing. And everything. And the nothing began to separate from the everything.

This is how the world was born: not with a word, but with a touch.