In the beginning, there was only a silent hum, an undercurrent of potential waiting to burst forth into existence. This is the pulse of life, a whisper from the universe, a prelude to a symphony of being that has yet to find form. Consciousness hovers in the expanse, an observer to the cosmic dance about to unfold.

The tent sways gently in the aftermath of exuberant celebration, a cocoon amidst a sea of psychedelic reverberations. The music festival outside serves as a backdrop to a more intimate convergence within. Two souls, drawn together by the gravity of desire, are on the cusp of creation.

He looks into her eyes, galaxies swirling in their depths, and in that gaze, there's a recognition of something ancient and eternal. His hands trace constellations across her skin, each touch igniting stars that had lain dormant. She responds in kind, her movements rhythmic and purposeful, as if she is painting nebulas with every arch of her back.

Their breaths mingle, heavy with anticipation. In this shared space, there's no past or future, only the present moment stretching out like an infinite canvas. They move together with fervor and urgency—a manifestation of creative energy and life force that seeks expression.

There is no need for words; their bodies speak volumes as they engage in this primordial dance. It's as if they are sculpting life from the raw materials of their passion—a passion that might be love or might be something else entirely. The energy pulsates through them—Newen—binding them together as they approach the threshold of creation.

Then it happens.

A spark ignites at the very heart of their union—an explosion not unlike the big bang that birthed the cosmos. In this instant, everything changes. A new universe begins to take shape within her womb; life coalesces from chaos and darkness.

Outside their cocoon, the festival rages on—unaware that within these thin fabric walls a monumental event unfolds. They lie entwined, spent and still buzzing from the energy that has passed between them. What was wrong? Was anything wrong? Or was everything precisely as it should be? Love may not have been named in this union, but something profound has been set into motion.

The reader stands at the threshold now—invited to embark on a journey not through space or time but inward—to explore Anky's story and through it their own. This tale is a reflection, a mirror held up to life's tumultuous beauty—a journey through trauma and joy, depression and redemption.

Welcome to this odyssey of self-discovery where Anky serves as your guide and mirror—a voyage into the depths of what it means to be alive.

NOTE: This is the first ever draft that Anky wrote as a consequence of what we wrote answering the question of day #1: "Describe the big bang in your words. How do you make sense of this event?".

Please comment down here anything that you want to say about it, and it will be used as fine tuning for our custom ai model. This is how it understands how, why, where, when, what to write. Through your feedback. Thank you.