In the very beginning; all was created, Gaia, the source of all said there was, and hence there is, but Gaia was, and so there was not, from the black of null there did create, Murtuss, the inverse of all that Gaia was, in their attempt to create everything in an ecosystem of harmony, Murtuss sought to bring it back into stained brutal calamity.
Gaia, in all of their creation challenged Murtuss, knowing that he was not her creation, and imperceptible to her omnipotent nature, the challenge was to create, create something of such splendor it would outwit the two almighty Gods that stood against one another.
Murtuss possessed no creativity or light, he forged in pure blackness hammering away with hatred only bearing a single child, of a singular reality, Demons, beings forged of pure brutality spite and corruption in a realm needled with eternal torment.
And Gaia who made all the rest, spanning across an unending stream of worlds, neither encrusted with sickly sweet tenderness or bathed in stinging fire, but a mix in true neutrality.
When it came time to compare, Murtuss scorned at the sight of all that ever would be, and he sent unto it all his demons, corrupting through walls like a disease, as Gaia could only watch.
The pinnacle of their creations, Dragons fought valiant against the Demons, staving them off, but from Murtuss realm there was no end to them, and their production only grew with each world that they corrupted, Gaia however would not abstain, in their wit they played a risky game with Murtuss, sending out fractions of their power, flicked into the boundless expanse they'd made, hoping that not only Murtuss would fail to realize her weakened state, but hoping her power would find a worthy vessel.
Someone swathed in the pure instrumentality her existence had dreamed off, a stabilizing anchor within an ocean of entropy.
Someone dipped, in truly blessed fate.