Leviathans
Overview
Before time had meaning, before stars bled their light into the dark, there were the Leviathans.
Older than memory and unbound by origin, the Leviathans are beings of insatiable hunger—cosmic predators whose only constant is the endless drive to consume. They predate the shaping of the universe, coalescing in the unknowable eons when Chaos herself drifted alone through the Empty. Whether they are parasites born of Chaos’s own roiling form, or scavengers from some other annihilated reality, none can say. Even the Gandur, eldest of the divine, do not know from whence the Leviathans came. They simply were—lurking, watching, waiting.
Where Chaos sought the end of all things, a pure return to nothing, the Leviathans craved everything. They are hunger made manifest, and hunger takes many forms: the urge to devour, to hoard, to dominate, to corrupt. To the Leviathans, creation was not sacred. It was sustenance.
When Chaos, known also as She That Devours, rose to unmake all reality, the Gandur and their younger kin, the Aimur, could not hold her back alone. It was then, in desperation, that they turned to the Leviathans—those lurking horrors of the edge-realms. A tenuous pact was forged: the Leviathans would aid in the war against Chaos, not out of loyalty or principle, but out of self-preservation. If Chaos triumphed, she would consume them too.
During the cataclysmic War of Beginnings, the Leviathans were unleashed upon the armies of entropy. They did not fight as allies. They hunted. Leviathans tore through the void-armies of Chaos not with divine precision, but with predatory frenzy. Planets were shattered, nascent stars devoured, entire realms rendered barren—yet it was all done in the name of preserving existence from the greater threat.
The Great Trickery
When Chaos was finally cast down and sealed in The Empty, the pact was fulfilled. But the Leviathans had tasted the bounty of creation, and they hungered for more. Where the Gandur and Aimur wished to build, the Leviathans only wished to feed.
They began to stalk the newly formed world of Alandris, slipping between realms, whispering into mortal dreams, seeding corruption, decay, and gluttony. The universe was now ripe with life, and the Leviathans intended to gorge themselves.
Fearing annihilation from within, the Gandur devised a final gambit. Adamas, firstborn among the Gandur, summoned Yaldabaoth, the greatest of the Leviathans—a shifting god-beast of mouths, tendrils, and thought-consuming hunger—and offered him a prize beyond imagining: the Heart of Creation, a source of endless divine nourishment. Blinded by his craving, Yaldabaoth gathered the other Leviathans and followed Adamas into The Empty, thinking to seize the forbidden prize.
There, in that dead realm where even light withers, the Gandur sealed the Leviathans away—locking the gates behind them with divine sigils and the sacrifice of entire constellations. The Leviathans screamed, not in pain, but in fury denied. They were not destroyed. Merely banished.
Their Legacy
The Leviathans remain imprisoned in The Empty, gnawing on the edges of reality. But their hunger seeps through the cracks. Mortals hear whispers in the dark. Cults rise, worshipping not gods, but appetites. War, greed, famine—many say these are not mortal failings, but Leviathan dreams made flesh.
Some ancient scholars claim that Yaldabaoth stirs once more, sensing the fraying of the divine seals. Others whisper that not all the Leviathans were cast into The Empty. A few escaped Adamas’s trap and now wear mortal skins, feeding slowly, patiently, waiting for the moment to open the gates once more.
In this age of unraveling truths, the Leviathans endure.
- Seal of Leviathans
