Start-Up Screen Mini-Game Narration:
Taken from the introduction of Pūrākau: Māori Myths Retold by Māori Writers.
"All that was held in Te Kore, all that has expanded into Te Pō, is but a pinprick of light. It is the seed of potential. It is minute, this particle of light. It is tempting to say insignificant, but because it holds our attention it is significant - we've imbued it with importance.
Watch as it continues to grow: the heat and light increase at a rate impossible for us to fathom. To our slow senses, it is as if we are witnessing a great explosion. One moment we can hardly see the light, the next we are surrounded by it.
Thus, this tiny speck has become the centre.
Let us meet here at the centre. The centre of all that is known, all that will be. We will create a world here from a few words, we will make a place where we will be comfortable."
"Let this place be filled with love and betrayal, with death and life, with human and non-human, with upheval and change."
Narration with Story:
As you look around, there is only darkness; there is no light nor sound. Suddenly a booming voice starts.
“All that was held in Te Kore, all that has expanded into Te Pō, is but a pinprick of light,” the old voice says. “It is the seed of potential.”
At this, you begin to see. There are tiny dim stars in the distance but clusters of them. You see yourself sitting in some form of vessel. Or vehicle. And there is something on your lap, but it is still too dark to see.
As your eyes get used to the darkness, you notice you are sitting in a canoe, more specifically, a waka taua- a war canoe. Across your lap sits a single paddle, and that is when the waka begins to bob ever so slightly.
“It is minute, this particle of light. It is tempting to say insignificant, but because it holds our attention it is significant - we've imbued it with importance-”
That’s when the ocean comes to life. Small waves make the boat bob up and down, lifting the left side before the right.
“-Watch as it continues to grow: the heat and light increase at a rate impossible for us to fathom. To our slow senses, it is as if we are witnessing a great explosion. One moment we can hardly see the light, the next we are surrounded by it.”
You take the paddle into your hands and slowly push the waka forward. It takes all of your concentration to find a rhythm that doesn’t strain you and continue with it.
In the distance, you can see something small but bright glowing. As you paddle faster, you see it is not quite as small as you had thought. And the way it moves strikes you as odd but vaguely familiar.
“Thus, this tiny speck has become the centre.”
The further forward you encroach, the more you realize the glow comes from a creature and that the creature is making its way to you. You move to the left, and it follows, same with the right, so you allow the waka to glide to a halt. It is not until it is closer that you see that it is a shark.
“Let us meet here at the centre-”
The voice does not come from the shark—the shark circles around your waka before swimming in a different direction. As you watch it swim away, you notice it turn back to you; it wants you to follow it.
“-The centre of all that is known, all that will be.”
You follow the shark. Sometimes it slows down, waiting for you to catch up; other times, you race it when you are more focused. You now register the sky’s magnificence; the stars are at their brightest. And as if you were following the North Star, something comes into view thought still far away.
“We will create a world here from a few words, we will make a place where we will be comfortable,” the old voice stops as if finished.
You slow down the pace, looking around for clues about what lies before you. Nearing the rock, you pick up the pace, eager to begin another journey, and once more, you hear the old voice.
"Let this place be filled with love and betrayal, with death and life, with human and non-human, with upheval and change."
And you pass through the rock’s entrance.
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