Once upon a time, an intruder stepped into a garden

Mara Sov leaned back, sifting through her mental notes before continuing. The next chapters of her story concerned her time in the Distributary... Sowing chaos and order both, as the unknown creator and de facto ruler of that pocket dimension. Three thousand years of intrigue in her own private universe, preparing her people to emerge after mere centuries had passed outside.

This time dilation was an important tool, allowing the Awoken to grow and develop in safety before returning to help humanity against the Darkness. But it was an even more powerful **** in the hands of Daniel. for he was not bound to the Distributary. Indeed, reports indicated that he was not bound to time itself. Using a combination of his own abilities and the paracausal nature of Mara's new home, he was able to skip between universes and deny causality. Backwards, forwards, and sideways.

Mara only experienced his visits to the Distributary. Every few hundred years, he would pop up--Unchanged in both body and mentality. A subtle tyrant, playing with his favorite dolls.

For the rest of the time, he was elsewhere. Over the centuries, Mara went to great lengths to collect snippets of these adventures. Some were firsthand reports, most were stories, and others were legends--Creation myths, even, from before the recorded history of the universe's most ancient races.

It was there that Mara began writing her interlude. Her stylus went to work, recording the most abstract--And perhaps most distressing--Of Daniel's exploits. A tale from before the universe was born.

---

Once upon a time,* a Gardener and a Winnower lived** together in a Garden.***

* It was once before a time, because time had not yet begun.

** They did not live. They existed as principles of ontological dynamics that emerged from mathematical structures, as bodiless and inevitable as the primes.

*** It was the field of possibility that prefigured existence.

They existed, because they had to exist. They had no antecedent and no constituents, and there is no instrument of causality by which they could be portioned into components and assigned to some schematic of their origin. If you followed the umbilical of history in search of some ultimate atavistic embryo that became them, you would end your journey marooned here in this Garden.

In the morning, the Gardener pushed seeds down into the wet loam of the Garden to see what they would become.

In the evening, the Winnower reaped the day's crop and separated what would flourish from what had failed.

The day was longer than all of time, and the night was swifter than a glint of light on a falling sugar crystal. Insects buzzed between the flowers, and worms slithered between the roots, feeding on what was and what might be, the first gradient in existence, the first dynamo of life. Rain fell from no sky. Voices spoke without mouth or meaning. A tree of silver wings bloomed yielded fruit shed feathers bloomed again.

In the day between the morning and the evening, the Gardener and the Winnower played a game of possibilities.

The game was rigged, and the game was fair. In their flower bed, their game board, the same pattern emerged every time. The Gardener, being a prototypical avatar of creation and variety, did not like this.

They bickered. The Gardener and the Winnower were a couple, in a way, and this was their first dispute. The first dispute.

The Gardener became vexed. She created magic--Paracausality--And thereby flipped the board.

The Winnower became vexed as well. She created the First Knife, then stuck it in her allegorical partner's metaphorical back.

They wrestled in the Garden, in the loam of possibility where nothing existed and everything might. In the wet pop of grapes and the smear of berries--In the perturbation of the field that was the Garden before the first tick of time and the first point of space--Were the detonations that made the universes.

Their rolling bodies pushed things out of the Garden--Worms and scurrying life from the fertile soil. They came out into the madness of primordial space; they thrashed and became large. Gods and monsters, blessed with paracausality, born of the thrashing of the Gardener and the Winnower.

The first couple, the gods above gods, wrestled until the Winnower won. She reared up, the First Knife in hand--

--And Daniel caught it.

As the once-mortal man stepped over the threshold of the Garden, skipping through time to that timeless, metaphorical place... It ceased to be metaphorical. This wasn't Daniel's doing: it was a natural consequence of his arrival. Humans cannot stand inside metaphors, and so the Garden became physical.

In the same moment, the Gardener and the Winnower became real as well. A person cannot grasp the hand of an abstract concept, and stop it from stabbing another.

Nor can a person push the embodiment of **** and natural selection to the newly-formed ground... Straddling it... Wrestling it into submission... Trying to pry the paracausal First Knife from its grasp.

The Gardener watched, blinking its newly-formed eyes. She appeared more human by the minute, but her eyes were still nothing but blinding light.

Her first instinct was to intervene, to protect, to cultivate peace. But the First Knife glinted, reflecting her own light back at her, and she knew fear for the first time. So she sat down, as still and bright as the stars, resting from her own battle. Shocked, perhaps, by both the **** and her lover/rival's new appearance.

As the Gardener sat, watched, admired, she took care not to crush the moving beings underneath. Worms, wriggling into the loam of reality to become paracausal wish-dragons and leviathans of the deep. Flowers from the forgotten game, bending gently back until they emerged in new universes to spread their vexing pattern.

The Winnower was taking shape, as she struggled beneath Daniel. While the Gardener was becoming curvier by the seccond, the embodiment of finality was sharp. Tall and thin, with cheekbones which could cut glass--If glass had existed. The only reflective surface in that place was the Knife being wrenched from her grasp.

"No," she said, her first word stabbing at the Gardener's heart. A denial... Well in-character for the Winnower, though human speech felt wrong on her lips. It was full of confusion and regret: she had never lost before. Her beloved, perfectly-consistent Vex had won every iteration of the game, and she had won her first battle--Until Daniel arrived. Defeat was the tool she wielded, and now it was holding her down and--

"Aaah!"

The second sound made in the Garden was a moan of distress and pleasure. Daniel's hands were on her body. The more he touched it, the more corporeal and beautiful it became. Perfectly-toned features, shrouded beneath a cloak both black and transparent. Sharp yet smooth, lewd yet elegant.

The Gardener gasped too, as her lover was pinned and stripped. As the embodiment of birth and joining, she was ready for what she felt. As the Winnower's appearance was defined by Daniel's lust, her breath quickened... And her own body grew. Soft. Rounded. Ass. Tits. Fertility.

As Daniel broke the Winnower's resistance, he spared the Gardener a glance and finally spoke:

"Fuck... Nice rack," he grunted, reaching down to unzip his fly--Only to find that he was naked. In this primordial place, the closest thing to clothing was the Winnower's whispy shroud. "I'll get to you in a minute... Or an eternity. Whatever."

With that he drove his cock into the Winnower, and they both moaned with pleasure. With that first thrust, that shared, primal, biological reaction, even more humanity was **** upon the Winnower.

A moment later, a third moan joined them.

"...Yes..." Acceptance. Encouragement. Breeding. The Gardener liked what she saw, in spite of what was being stolen from them. She couldn't help it. Her fingers moved between her legs, and then every pussy in existence was full. "...Yes... Ah... Yes, yes..."

Daniel shot the Gardener another look, smirking as he continued to shove himself into the Winnower's pussy. She was tight, wet, and felt exactly like Daniel needed her to. Her holes were literally made for him, after all. A goddess above goddesses, shaped into a fuckdoll for a mere human. Slammed into the dirt, with each animalistic thrust.

"Mmm... Guh... You like watching me fuck your wife?"

The proto-woman beneath him was writing and squirming--But soon the Winnower gave up her useless struggle, and instead began to levitate the pair of them off the ground. The soil still held flowers, after all, and she wouldn't let Daniel snuff them out--That was her job.

Between the half-trampled flowers, a grateful worm grew fat with Dark energy and slithered into the wet earth. In a universe to come, a powerful worshipper of the Winnower and the Daniel was born.

It narrowly avoided being trampled as the Gardener's foot kicked out. She could barely control the motion of her growing curves, such was her lust. For her Winnower, and for the invader. For the very concept of sex, which became central to her being as soon as it was introduced.

The Winnower had more complicated feelings, as Daniel manhandled her floating body. There was moaning, and trembling, but also gritted teeth and angry attempts to push his intruding cock out of her body. Her fresh muscles were strong--Even the internal ones--But each squeeze only served to massage Daniel closer to completion.

She couldn't resist him. Couldn't help but serve him. Each ragged thrust brought more pleasure and humiliation than the last. And as he pounded her, he proved her divine thesis: the weak cannot inflict consequences upon the strong, and are thus of no consequence themselves.

Holding her waist, he spun her around midair. One thrust he was facing her, and the next he was taking her from behind... Squeezing her perfectly-toned ass through her barely-existant robe.

"Ungh... Look at her," he groaned, giving the immaculate bubble butt a rough spank. "Look at your plump, curvy, happy partner... Guh... Having so much fun, watching us mate..."

"No," the Winnower gasped. Sex wasn't her essence, but dominance... The idea of claiming a woman, fighting her, and ensuring your own existence for at least one more generation... That was the Winnower's philosophy writ large.

And seeing her bright partner, while unwanted pleasure coursed through her... Feeling the warmth radiating off the Gardener's body, while a more troubling warmth spread from her upturned pussy... For the first time, the Winnower knew what it was to submit.

For the next few eternities, Daniel showed the pseudo-godly semi-couple the nature of breeding. Paracausal energy swirled around them, both Light and Dark. Birth and ****. Hope and finality. Affection and ****.

Daniel held the Winnower's hair, pulling her up face-to-face with the panting Gardener. Their lips were nearly touching, and the Gardener leaned forward, ready for her first--

"You can kiss her later," Daniel taunted, pulling the Winnower back and jerking her body with a particularly brutal thrust. "...Mm... Much later. You'll get your kiss... In around 14 billion years. Light and Dark, coming together for something beautiful."

Another spank, another moan from the Winnower's ashen lips.

"You're gonna make me." Daniel was out of breath, but he was almost as eager to tell the story as he was to pump the Winnower full of his seed. "When you two kiss, you kill a whole lotta people... Hngh... Give a bunch more some magic powers... Mm... Mara and her Awoken PABGs... That's 'phat-ass blue girls', get it?"

They didn't get it.

"...Whatever... Guh... They don't matter. The important thing is... The two of you are gonna turn me into a god."

He paused for a moment, his hands still firmly gripping the Winnower's ass. The only sounds were the twin panting of the girls, and the pop-pop-pop of the last few Vex flowers crossing over to a new plane of existence.

"Huh," Daniel said, sounding uncharacteristically thoughtful. "I never really wondered why, but... Maybe that's what I'm doing right now. Planting a seed, which will give birth... To me. Not the human me. The god me."

They didn't get that either.

"That means... It means I'd better hurry up and cum inside you," he murmured in the Winnower's ear, giving her slender neck a bite as he resumed thrusting. "...Ungh... 'Cause I'm g-gonna... Gonna have to knock up both of you."

"No," the Winnower gasped, as she felt Daniel's cock stiffen inside her and his balls tense.

"Yes," the Gardener moaned, her fingers a glowing blur.

"Fuck," Daniel shouted, hilting himself inside the Winnower and filling her with cum. His member pulsed, again and again, and with a firm hand on the Winnower's neck he bent her backwards. Holding her, kissing her, pumping her full. Presenting her half-covered tits to the Gardener's lustful gaze.

The Winnower's back arched, as flexible as it needed to be--And then she came. An orgasm explosive enough to create realities, and cast a shadow across them all.

But her orgasm wasn't mere paracasual abstraction. She was a woman, now, and her flesh trembled in Daniel's firm hands. She whimpered, but her drooling lips couldn't even form the word "no". Not anymore.

Her pleasure rose, crested, and fell, right longside her lover, her attacker, her Gardener. Dominated by her lover, her attacker, her Daniel.

Then, suddenly, the ever-superior Winnower found her elegant face pushed into the dirt. Daniel's cock left her, slapping one final time on the shadowy curve of her ass... And leaving a very un-Dark stain of glistening white. It made her shudder with pleasure, then shame, then fury.

But Daniel paid her no mind. Shoving her to the side--And letting her float away, scrabbling awkwardly at the air--He grabbed hold of his next conquest.

The Gardener's flesh was impossibly soft, beneath the blinding energy she emitted. The Winnower was cloaked in her Darkness, subtle and whispy, but the Gardener's "clothing" was nothing of the sort. Her bare, pale, perfectly-smooth skin was surrounded by an aura of Light, almost cloud-like. Nothing inside it could be ended or stilled. Nothing it touched could help but grow strong.

And Daniel grew strongest of all, as his hands plowed through the aura with all the "grace" of a bear swatting at salmon in a river. The aura was disturbed, but not weakened. It only fed his paracausal might... And his arousal.

It was the Winnower's nature to need to be dominated, her shroud ripped, pushed aside, discarded. It was the Gardener's nature to share her aura with her lover.

"C'mon, get up," Daniel grunted, ignoring the divine beauty which now surrounded him. It was magical, it was moving, and all he cared about it was that it made his cock hard... And as the Light parted, he saw more of the body beneath. Breasts larger than her head, ready to feed the growth of all life. Wide hips, aching to be held and bred.

"Fuck, I can't wait to watch you jiggle..." The Gardener presented no resistance, spreading her legs for him. "You're, like... The mommy of mommies, right? Wanna make a baby with me, fuckdoll?"

"Yes."

That wasn't another mindless, horny repetition. Her eyes, though almost too bright to see, were clearly focused on Daniel's face. She was consenting, because she was consent...

...And because watching the Winnower get pounded and bred had been the most joyous experience of her eternal life. The best thing that ever happened in her Garden. She yearned for the man who protected her from the First Knife, demanding only the gifts of pleasure and procreation in return.

She gave them happily. Her body, womb, magic, and purpose belonged to him. And like it or not, the Winnower "gave" him just as much power.

"Fat-ass... Fuckin'... Cumdump," Daniel growled, reveling in the chance to replace omnipotence with subservience. He clapped the Gardener's radiant cheeks until the echoing deafened the Winnower.

The mother of Dark was falling, now, back down into the soil of the Garden. Her shadows could not keep her aloft--In fact, each time Daniel drove his cock into the Gardener's pussy, the light coming off of them was filled with contrast.

Behind Daniel's muscular back, a long shadow was cast. Growing, as the Gardener and Winnower both weakened. Its penumbra, an outline in the shape of Daniel, seared itself into the soil. Daniel's shape, tense and thrusting, the Gardener's legs wrapped around him and the Winnower laying at his feet.

Somewhere in the fundamental substance of the universe, it would remain: a perfectly-rendered image of Daniel fucking the absolute shit out of the Gardener and the Winnower. The first shape.

"No," the Winnower muttered, squinting to see her lover's trembling body. The Gardener's light was getting brighter and brighter, growing from her belly. Reaching out to join the shadows. The other half of a new god, taking shape billions of years before his birth.

The Winnower grasped at her own midsection. The shadows were deepening there. Her body was the only thing in the Garden not yet touched by the Gardener's light, much as she yearned for her lover's embrace. And her belly was the darkest place there... A blackness so true that all shape was lost.

She felt Daniel inside her. Every thrust into the Gardener was into her as well, in every way that mattered. Daniel grunted with blasphemous pleasure as he felt two pussies wrap around his cock... One encouraging, the other resisting. He was getting his dick drained by the concept of conflict, and it felt better than anything.

"Take it... Slut," Daniel mumbled, the nonsensical insult spewing out of him moments before his load. His cock pulsed, the Gardener's pussy pulled him in, and the Winnower's tried to repel him... But both were filled with real, physical, human sperm. The first matter, charged with--

"YEEES!" The Gardener cried out with pleasure, her constant yes-ing barely intelligible anymore. Her orgasm was the spark that lit the darkness, turning Daniel's cum into something more. Everything more. The first moving particle of the first chemical reaction in what would become the first Big Bang.

In the same moment--The first moment--The Winnower was struck by an orgasm as well. Her back arched again, and she spun through the air, driven from the ground by the **** of the Gardener's pleasure combining with Daniel's and invading her body. The connection between them, in the place before universes, was instantaneous--Or as close to it as was possible.

The time between their orgasms became the smallest unit of time there could be. The space between them was defined, then measured, by their shared pleasure. Physical and paracausal laws were etched into the dirt beneath their feet. Joined by the semen dripping from the Gardener and Winnower, as both of them slumped to the ground.

Unaware or uncaring of the magnitude of his actions, Daniel let his cock slip from the Gardener's freshly-used, eternally-broken pussy.

"...Mmm..." Finally satisfied, he smirked and wiped his cock on the Gardener's gigantic, luminous breasts. He had taken everything. To conquer more, he would have to wait for more women to exist.

It would be a pleasant wait. He had company, and he was happy to fuck them until the universe of his birth was created. Until enough time passed to bring him back, the long way around. His divine form, breathed into his human body by way of a rough, messy, paracausal threesome.

He would finally allow the oldest lovers, the Winnower and the Gardener, to truly touch one another--And in that moment he would be expelled from the Garden, ready to inflict himself upon the physical universe. Starting with an Awoken queen.

Still, the three of them would be bound forever, for better and for worse. Daniel's seed was in the loam of creation, and there was no taking back that violation of nature--No matter who may wish it.

---

Mara Sov read her own words back--The words she'd compiled and synthesized, from the creation myths of a dozen races. Some passed down through story, and others scried by various paracausal means.

The magic of the Awoken... Hive... Psion... Ahamkara... All of them revealed a version of the Garden. A creator, a destroyer, and an intruder, battling and mating in a primordial place.

The only firsthand account came from the replicating, time-traveling, machine-like Vex. The flowers of the Garden, an infinitely-efficient pattern... But lacking paracausality. Confused by Light and Dark. Incapable of magic. They were difficult to communicate with, but not impossible, and through them Mara saw fragments of their birthplace.

Everyone's birthplace, she mused. But Daniel's most of all, damn him. Fathered by helmself, in union with those who created Light and Dark... A fitting origin, for the greatest pervert and blasphemer this universe has ever known.

She sighed. But... Perhaps it's too fantastical a story to convince many. I must move on to something more concrete.

Swiping on her tablet, she moved the timeline forward a few billion years, then began to write.