Chaos stood on the edge of his dimension, his black-purple robes whipping around him as if he stood in the middle of a gale. Mysterious lights illuminated his pessimistically lined face. His hands clutched at the sides, as if wanting to hold on to something.
Void stood with him, almost like a shadow. Blacker than black robes reflected nothing other than a faint transparent blue. A hood covered his head, masking his face in shadows. His hands were covered by leather gloves.
The Great Father was at the opposite edge of the dimension, a puzzled look twisting his muzzle.
“We wish to talk to you, godling.” Void whispered into the aether. “We wish avatar state.”
“Why? I mean, no offense, Absolute,” he said bowing in reverence, “but I don’t know what will happen with your appearance in my world. You two are the most polar of the Eight, and–
“All of the others have been avatars,” Chaos raged in a quiet voice. “Even Good and Evil have been.”
“But not on this planet, and besides, they were born at the same time to keep the balance,” Void crackled. Chaos reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“And who will balance you two out?” the godling asked, skeptical of the entire plan.
“I will godling.” Order appeared next to him.
“You and Chaos, Absolute?” The idea appealed to him. He nodded. “And you’ll be born just a moment apart, as brothers. You won’t remember who you are.”
Void looked at the duo for a long moment and nodded. “I will wait then.” And he simply collapsed into nothing.
“So,” the Great Father said, clapping his hands, “when do we begin?”