In the before time, in the dark and endless void of nothingness, outside the confines of reality in which the mortals and gods alike are used to living, an endlessly titanic existence swam, going everywhere yet nowhere, having existed in the every and never.
At that time, words didn't exist yet; even the concept of concepts themselves hadn't been born yet. That titanic dark existence was nothing more than a fluctuation, a nothing that had started to become something, and it was bored. It thought, what if I paused for a second, and then unpaused? The 'Then' was the important part, not the act of pausing. It had created the concept of time, things happening in a clear order.
Yog was then born, a voice in the vast mind of the void, and at the time, it didn't look like a cute little halfling but was more like an endless mass of black tentacles of pure darkness, bubbling like tar.
