It was all there was. It was everything and everywhere all at once. Just a vast white beyond even dimensional hierarchies. Beyond causality. Beyond the very concepts that govern reality. Concepts were something it didn't even know existed, much less let itself be governed by them. In fact, concepts like "itself" were abstractions it did not even comprehend.
Then it felt something. It didn't understand what that something was. It was a poke. A prod from something so infinitesimally small, that it forgot about it as soon as it went away. But that prod was the beginning of something so earthshaking, that even reality itself was shaken and remade by that simple contact.
Again, the poke came, like a faint dab by a Q-Tip. This time it observed the poke.
Something other than itself? Impossible. It was everything. Yet this poke had fascinated it to an extent that it's sole existence had been devoted to finding out what exactly had poked it, and why it hadn't introduced itself to it.
Poke.
This time again the poking continued. Not just once, but twice. Harder than before. Hardly anything of consequence, but still, it was something other than itself, and that was fascinating.
It had rightfully thought that it was the only thing that was, yet its conclusion that it held was abruptly challenged by whatever continued to poke it. Thus, it decided that the next time it was poked, it would bring whatever was poking at it within itself for observation.
Though it didn't realize that it was already beginning to conceptualize itself as an entity just yet, it began feeling. It began existing.
Poke.
It poked again, whatever it was. Grabbing the entity that poked it and bringing it into itself, it was instantly befuddled.
This thing. This being was complex. So small, yet so complex. Fragile and complex. Dissecting it proved disastrous. If such a concept as disastrous was decipherable. It felt sad, or at least the idea of sad. As even though the thing it had captured inside itself was completely erased with nothing left of its existence. It had made a strong imprint on this otherwise infinite but maliable existence.
It sent out a beacon of sorts towards the direction the thing had come from.
Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. Many pokes at it had been felt.
Pulling in those tiny fragile existences, it began very gently examining them. Just like the last, they all faded into the white, their very existence completely erased by the greater existence forcing its curiosity into them. However, this time it had gained valuable experience.
These things, know as Sirens by other things in their reality were complex. Things like feelings, death, life, existence. All these abstractions were overwhelming.
It had to know more. There was so much new to experience.
As such, since the tiny reality constrained by things like time, space, concepts, and duality would be completely and utterly annihilated by its mere existence, it broke off a piece of itself to explore the tiny reality.
That tiny piece would later be known as The Beyonder.