Sine Nomine.

Prologue

In the beginning of nothingness, there was no understanding. Only the void stared at your nonexistent eyes, and only the void to stare at otherwise. We do not understand which that doesn't exist. And that which we cannot understand we will so refute its existence.

In the beginning of nothingness, there will never be understanding, for there is no existence. And it is right that we marvel at existence, for we are given this very existence for the sole purpose of understanding. We fail to understand however, that which binds our souls to our knees.

Deep in thought, I wonder what is it that drives this void to think aloud.

Thought.

Why is called thought?

Why is it that we call things so?

The marvels of understanding.

A name is born from understanding.

And understanding is born from the very existence it so refers to.

A name.

What is my name, I wonder?

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"I shall give you a name then."
That voice. The divine prowler of the void, the voice of dimension... existence itself. He is the one responsible for these thoughts. The hand of fate. The creator. The mind of inscrutable mystique. The twisted child of chaos. Among many names the different thoughts have collected for it, like me, it has one true name.

"You..." I answered it. Voicelessly. Voice did not exist in this void, only thought deign to exist here. To be devoid of thought, is to be the void itself in this realm.

But a voice came out. Not mere thought. It was a voice. I could call it a voice, but it was meek, like a newborn.

What kind of nightmare am I seeing?

A form of flesh? Intelligence disapproves collectively. What are the thoughts suggesting? Collect... collect... a form if flesh indeed it is named. Named... tagged, so this is thought... this is a body... this is understanding...

This is...

Existence.

Thought is broken. Reassembled.

Chaos abounds.

"Our name is no more what we ask of."

A voice spoke, and many more. It was excruciating. A choir of thought.

"It is now my name." From my mouth it came. Silence. The thoughts are silenced. They exist no more.

"I am thought." What is thought? I wonder that as I struggled to keep my body afloat the pitch black lake.

"So you are awake now." It spoke again. And for the last time, I saw existence before me again. Or no...

I am now existence. I exist. Or so my thought declare.

"So what is my name?"

"You shall have no name. You shall be your own name. The nameless one."

"I do not understand."

"You are nameless, and those who speak of your name shall have their identities vanish to the void where you came from. Their existence will be no more, for they do not understand you, and no one ever will. No one will understand you, for you are understanding itself. I will give you freely your own existence at the cost of this curse."

"What...?" I do not know what it is talking about... a curse?

"And upon this curse, you shall be power, for power is a curse. The thoughts have decided. The name of antiquity, the nameless one, Innominatam Inanitas. The nameless void. You are the thought of the void. Its representative. My representative. And there is a world you must return to. This dream is your legend, Innominat. Wake up to existence, and see your curse of existence come to fruition. There is something seeking to devour all of us, all of existence, and you, understanding in its essence, must gather the power needed to defeat it through understanding. And understanding is born from existence, and so I must thrust you on to my existence."

Every word is a hazy murmur. I feel like sleeping...but no.

I am already dreaming.

This is reality.

So be it then.

I tire of these words. I seek to understand it myself.

So I must go on.

My name...

It was my na-...