More often than not, the snail forgot about the thief. And yet, it was still the only being able to remember it. The poor thief. Terribly misunderstood, disliked, and thought of as evil by all…was alone.

In a world consisting of light and darkness, of hearts and eyes, of timber and stone, the thief was nothing. Before the beginning, when everything consisted of nothing, the thief thought of itself as something. Quite quickly, however, as suns formed and universes crystalized, the thief wept.