A/N: Welcome to CROSSOVER on Infinite Worlds, an ambitious project consisting of multiple crossovers pointing towards a larger, cohesive story. This is the "master" story, as it were, and eventually all roads will lead here. For now, it serves as a prologue. The various COIW sub-stories will begin independently, and they will be posted and updated separately until the narratives converge here. Look for them on my list of stories soon!

Thanks for reading,

LionLad

Where did it begin?

Some would say it began with the Rifts, or Nadir, or the invasions, or the alliance, or the other alliance, or with one man's ambition. They would be wrong. A few clever wags would try to joke that it ended with the Rifts, but they could not be further from the truth.

The truth…

The truth was…

Truth was a priceless commodity. When universes collide, absolutism is the first casualty. Nothing can be universally understood, let alone agreed upon by everyone involved. Add to that the fact that time passes at different speeds in different universes, and it becomes a miracle that any record survived at all. Time travel only complicates the process further. Person A cites an incident that happened last Thursday, only to find that Person B remembers last Thursday completely differently, Person C does not remember last Thursday at all, and Person D never existed. Assigning blame becomes impossible when effect precedes cause. Some will use that very fact to point their finger at the time travelers, but then someone else invariably points out the time travel started after events were already unfolding, even though words like "after" have no business applying to time travel, and then anybody listening gets a headache and has to go lie down.

In point of fact, there were several beginnings. Therefore, "In the beginning" would be inaccurate. "Once upon a time" sounds trite and clichéd (and the aforementioned chronological backflips make one averse to anything containing the word "time" anyway), it was not a dark and stormy night, and there were no clocks striking thirteen. "A long time ago" brings up the sticky linearity issue again, and there were several galaxies, and not all of them were far, far away.

We will begin with an unremarkable beach, awash in torrential rain that pounded on the corrugated iron roof of a simple, lonely shack. Rain fell frequently there, although the sole inhabitant assumed rain was merely a construct of his consciousness that he perceived to make things wet. Eventually, the rain stopped. The door opened, and a tall shambling man with straw-coloured hair and shabby clothing peered out.

"Well," he said, "it appears the rain has stopped. Perhaps. If I perceive that the rain no longer falls, then I suppose I might also perceive that I remain dry." He shrugged and called into the shadows behind him, "Puss-puss-puss! Come, pussy! Let's go for a walk."

A cat appeared between his legs, and gave him the look all felines have: it says, "I came because I felt like it, and you just happened to be here." It gingerly tested the mud in front of the door with one paw, decided the great outdoors were far too damp for its liking, and swished away back into the hut.

"Pussy should have his walk," the man said, "although it is possible that I am wrong." He noticed the boots sitting just inside his door, and excitedly picked them up. First he slid his hands into them. Then he balanced them on his shoulders. After exploring all possible interactions between his feet and the boots, he became very excited when he discovered his feet could fit inside them. He wore the boots on the wrong feet, not bothering to lace them up as he shuffled casually down to the seashore. By this time the ground had dried enough that his cat deigned to join him, or rather deigned to meander aloofly in his general vicinity while pretending not to join him at all.

"I think I see someone in the water," the man said. "I have never seen that before. People always come in ships." Six black or green ships, and once a white one. "Perhaps she fell out of the ship. Hmm. She might be dead."

He leaned over the woman, who was face down in the surf, nudged repeatedly against the beach by each incoming wave.

"Are you dead?"

There was no response. The man shrugged and began walking away, which was a mistake. The woman was not dead, and she was extremely dangerous. In fact, the only reason she had arrived on that planet at all, a planet surrounded by an impenetrable improbability field, was because she was a highly improbable being.

One hand lashed out and grabbed the man's ankle. He stopped mid-stride and looked down at her. "Hello," he said.

She tried to ask, "Where am I?" but it came out as "Wrmgh hnn?" After spitting out a mouthful of sand, she tried again. "Where am I?"

"You are here," he replied. "If you are real, that is. Have you come to sing to my cat?"

This question seemed to confuse her. "Who are you?"

"Me? I am me. And that is The Lord," he explained, pointing at the cat.

She shook her head, letting go of his foot in order to pull herself onto one elbow. "Don't you have a name?"

"I suppose not. Do you?"

She glared up at him. "Yes. My name… is Maria Shoshannah."

…And so it begins, and ends, and begins again…

CONTINUED IN COIW: VENGEANCE IS FUTILE