Light years away, far beyond our little blue gem in the cosmos, there was once another solar system not too unlike our own. Surrounding a yellow dwarf star that could have been a mirror image to that which we owe our own existence to, eleven planets went about in an eternal loop. Remarkably alike our own, the system and its ring of planets soon became known as "The Twin", our cosmic doppelganger of the heavens. Some of these planets were very similar to our own too, like the little red gem they came to call Ferna, a small body very alike mercury and equally near to the sun, its rocky crusts similarly molten and thousands of degrees above the humanly tolerable. Some planets, however, were much further-flung from their system's center. Again parallels were drawn - these large distant giants were mostly gaseous, eternally violent bodies where land could never be found, spiraling endlessly. One in particular, Umbius, at over one thousand times the size of Earth, gleaned quite a parallel to Jupiter, save for its brilliant turquoise color.
None, however, seemed at first glance to be what the old ones wanted. Too big, too small, too hot, too cold, not one of the system's planets seemed perfect for their game - until one day, they happened to cast a second glance at the majesty of Umbius and took in, for the first time, each of its fifteen orbiting bodies. Most were small, cold, useless - but one stood out. It was dry, barren, but appeared to have at one point been rich in water before an apparent loss of atmosphere stripped it of all its promise. It was too perfect an opportunity to pass-up. With nothing but time, they set to work repairing a world gone awry. Seas were re-established, an atmosphere re-constructed, an orbit stabilized to inhibit its immediate loss again. They prepared another stage for another chapter in a game that had gone on for countless eons, a game in which time and space no longer mattered particularly. Slipping through all that exists and all that ever was or would be, they were ageless, and they were patient. Their past projects abounded in all of the farthest reaches of the universe - strange worlds home to even stranger creatures. Teleporting and slapping together life from all reaches of existence, they played a game of observation as their creatures adapted to their new worlds. A world of frogs, a world where ice coated the equator of a tropical jungle world of impossible grandeur. It was impossible to gather and collect all of their exercises in evolution, and equally so was it to ever satisfy their curiosity.
It was so that here, within The Twin, that the old ones had decided to set down but one more of their projects. When the world seemed ready, they began to bring it to life. It would never again support its own living creatures - time had not been kind to them, if ever the little moon housed its own. But it would again hold life. Borrowing from the few originals still to be standing in the eternal cosmos, Earth would be the source of their seeds. They would be conservative here, in comparison to earlier works, but the end results would be no less interesting. After they determined their little biosphere to be healthy and functioning, they would step back and admire their work from afar. Did they ever return? Will they? They may, they may not. They may be watching us already, beyond our comprehension. We may believe ourselves to have reached the level of the gods, but to they were are no more than ants - a curiosity at best. We will never know what they can know. We are all but a small part of them.
But we could fathom their handy work. Eons after they left it, it would be here that we'd eventually stumble upon it. Upon the little blue moon, floating warm and wet without comparison amongst countless cold and rocky fellows, is where we'd find the true world of the birds.