From out of the dank depths of sleep crawls the squishy Potentia. Blinking its eyes in the light of the setting sun, it peers about for food. Licking at the ground, it finds grains of sand palatable.  

Gain strength from your surroundings young one.

Drifting crescents are less filling for the Void Crosser. A new realm this unformed world shall enjoy. Into the maw.

Precious treasures sprung up overnight! Out dashed the Whitternall, spiny arms a-clatter. For at the door had wandered a shaggy Nuftwishpatter.  

The furry beast did not value the blossoming stools, nor did appreciate the wonders of their sudden life. Such wondrous luck that they had grown so near!  

Slash, slash, arms lanced out. Back ignorant thing, back! Snapping teeth and rigid limbs met the sombre-eyed behemoth.  

Looking down on the fierce little thing, the Nuftwishpatter smiled and turned away. Beaten again, he was. He must remember to plant some red ones next time. The little Whitternall does like them so.  

The drink dispenser wasn't working today. It had been running inconsistently all week. No technicians were likely to come around for a month given the recent city-wide outages, and a drink machine wasn't a very high priority.  

Terrick shook the counter in frustration. A minor mechanical whining began purring from within the machine's depths. Something else had become aware of being broken. Angrily, he snapped the dispensing lever on and stormed out of the house.  

Far away, on a distant plain, through galaxies and times unknown, a Verris dragon eyed a floating treasure, trapped in the air, neither rising nor falling. It had many strange parts, and did not look like treasure. But it fascinated the eye, for it was both there and not there.  

Along one of the tubes on the thing it read: "Insta-mix Nutra-drink inlet valve."

Beneath the windless plains rides the great earth snail, Petorus. Watchful of the events hidden from the night's stars, he guards the world above from the potentials of the Deep.  

This night stirred a fledgling, and the striking sword did not fall upon it. An unexpected curiosity stayed the slash of Petorus.  

For from within the tentacled horned mass of the fledgling came a child's wail.

"What are you doing?!" cried mother.  

Tik looked up at her, clutching a large bar of soap with a big bite out of it. His mother stared back at him with wide eyes, awaiting an answer.  

"I'm so clean!" chirped Tik.  

She fired out an open hand at the bar of soap. "Please give it to me, Tik. You mustn't eat the soap."  

Peering at the splayed fingers like a hungry starfish, Tik solemnly laid the bar down into its greedy grasp.  

He watched as she stood up and walked into the bathroom to put the soap away. A moment later she came out and smiled at him. "Be good, Tik! And don't let me find any more bites out of that soap!"  

The short little fellow grinned and watched his mother walk away. Then like a magnet, his head swivelled to the bathroom door and up to the counter where the soap lay.  

"I mustn't bite that one," thought Tik. "But I think there's new ones in the cupboard. She never said anything about those!"

The pinnacle swayed gently across the sky like a metronome. Tables had been set with choicest drink. Every seat was marked.  

Energy spiked across the length of the channel. The delegates rose from the loading bay, upwards to the great meeting hall. An atmosphere of anxiety filled the ascent tube.  

The great Nu'Sari resumed its slow march forward, its head drifted lazily forward. Not a glass of water spilt nor a chair tipped as it strode along the smooth travelling lane.  

That day marked the beginning of a new strategy.