The end of the world shall be foretold by war and turmoil.
Such wars unlike any seen before.
They shall fight man against man, god against god, and monster against monster.
When swords and armor wear away they shall fight with their teeth a nails.
When even those fail they will battle body against body, until the would word burns.
Only then will great floods wash away the dirt and stone.
The water will leave the black shell of the Great Egg naked in the eclipsed sun.
Only then will the hatching begin.
First its claws will emerge.
Than its back.
Its legs.
Its shell.
Its mucus will cover the world in a new sea.
And finally its hideous visage will peek out to look upon the sun and moon with hunger its eyes.
At last it will consume the sun, moon, and stars, it will relish that meal, then it will turn to what remains of its egg for nourishment.
Then the screams of all that had ever existed will reach the ears of The Holy Creator.
He shall return to vanquish the beast and start anew.
From its egg he will build a new paradise and will populated it once more with man and beast and fish and bird.
He will look upon his creation and cut the sun and moon the Beast's gullet to give the land light, before leaving to other matters in the cosmos until duty calls once more.— Excerpt from The Hatch
And so it is. The Hatch is a legend that is yet to occur and that has already past. A script for the macabre play that will be performed on the galactic stage. For what purpose, and for whose amusement is a mystery, but it a play that has been performed many times, and will be shewed to many an audience before its retirement.
