Overview
The Circleverse is a multiverse full of multiverses. These multiverses within the multiverse are known as trees or complexes, so named because they resemble prismatic blue trees branching out endlessly into the void. From the trunk of these trees - usually known as the hub - seven branches sprout. Each of these lead to a circle of seven universes, each universe of which in turn sprouts several branches, and so on, infinitely. Rather than splitting into two or more like some have theorised, the universes grow naturally from each other. This has been likened to strawberry plants; the runners trailing out to grow new plants. Seen from above or below, the rings of branches and universes form circles, with these runners connecting them.
Every Complex seems to have a set of evolutionary branches themed after a creature, all stemming from the seven root worlds from which it's theorised the tree grew. For example, a branch can be populated by griffins and griffin-like creatures, which can be linked back to a world in the roots of the tree that was once entirely populated by griffins. Another branch in the same complex can be colonised by dragons and such, again linked to a root world. As the worlds get further away from the trunk, the more obscure and mixed they can get, to the point it's almost impossible to tell what branch it is.
The Complexes within the Circleverse are spaced far apart, so much so that most cannot be seen by each other. Very few have travelled between them due to this. Those who have have only managed to do so because of branches or roots overlapping.
Origin Story - A Creation Mythology
Origin wasn't so much born, but rather, she wasn't there, then she was there. Floating in the void, all dust and colours and light and darkness. She didn't have a body, so she made herself one. There wasn't any light, so she made some. She was all powerful. She could make and destroy with a thought.
But she had no concept of this. Yet.
Dust clouds, stars, souls she made. Nothing in her own image. What was the point in copying herself when there were many more things to create? Like worlds, universes, living creatures. There was so much to discover.
The first few souls she made were half formed. They ran from her grasp as soon as they could move, fleeing into the void, where they'd float and whisper and watch with wide eyes.
Then came the dragons. A handful of souls with the body of a flying lizard. They looked up to her, they served her, they grew in consciousness, and soon they were making their own worlds.
They made seven worlds, one each, and left them slowly spinning in a ring. The excitement of creating too strong to stay on one project. Seven worlds after seven worlds. They kept making, until they noticed something strange.
The worlds they had made were growing. Not getting bigger, but sprouting shoots that twined together and grew into a stem. As they watched, a tree was born, and from it's branches it bore the fruit of new life, new worlds, new universes.
But Origin, her worlds were many. They floated in the void, never seeming to be quite perfect, never seeming to last very long. And looking at her subjects seemingly perfect multiverses only fuelled a rage that had been growing. In a burst of rage and power, she erased her worlds, her subjects and all her creations. But the multiverses stayed. They were not hers to destroy. With nothing of hers left, she sank into darkness. She destroyed herself, her handmade body, and let her soul find a new home in a multiverse. Somewhere, she could start a new life, a new story.
Origin story spoilers below
Read at your own risk
After that, her soul found the body of a stillborn, a small human on a far off world. As a young child, she'd wonder at the world around her, understanding it all, knowing the universe. But, as she grew older, these fantasies were replaced by logic. She no longer had the knowledge of the multiverse, or the memories of her life. Her now human brain would never have been able to handle it.
Instead, she wrote them into stories. Stories about the world around her, stories about worlds she didn't know existed, stories about new places. With every word the worlds grew, the characters thrived. And around her, things changed for the better.
But it didn't last. Her life got busy, and because of that she stopped writing. Her fantasy world stagnated and froze. The entire multiverse on page freezing.
And soon, her story caught up with her.
She learned that her life as she knew it wasn't what she thought, that her world wasn't what she thought. To have reality in your hands without knowing it had caused it to collapse, and with the creators erased bar her, there was no one else to fix it.
She left her human life. She turned back to her handmade body, her life in the void. There was no need for words out here. The story continued off the page, now out of her control.
Gallery
The branches of the Circleverse
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