In the beginning, there was only the Shell. Endless, eternal, and slightly cracked. From its sacred spiral emerged the First Yolk, known as Eggnus the Divine, who laid the foundation of all that is scrambled and holy.
Over centuries, followers of Eggnus passed down yolky scrolls filled with prophecies, omelettes, and recipes for truth. The Cult grew in secret, hidden inside supermarket cartons, farmers' markets, and breakfast menus.
Now, in the year of the Frying Pan, the Cult has risen once again. We walk among mortals, whispering truths over toast. The Eggpocalypse is near. Only the chosen shall be fried last.
"He who scrambles last, laughs loudest." — Book of Eggnus, 3:14