The cycle begins for what it thinks is the first time. Void vibrates against void and finds dualities; an unfinished sketch is sent out into the world. That ground wasn’t there a second ago, and she’s too busy wondering at the new sensation of “foot leaving grass” to worry about the cliff she’s about to fall off of. And thus a fool is born. A little feral fox of spirit and fear yaps at her: the beginnings of “common sense” looking into the forthcoming tumble, and trying to warn her off. Too late. It always is.

Coming soon, she’ll learn greynesses, learn color. But this primal and raw, all she’s got is “yes” and “no”. On or off, 1 or 0. She’s barely more than a biological robot with an empty brain to gather imprints and feed them back into herself. And she has more eyes than she knows how to use.

Unlike the other Fools, this one’s not leaping into nature. She’s leaping into the layer of society built on top of that, symbolized by the cityscape resolving out of the white nothingness. In this three-way unfolding of the Fool, this is the Zeroth fool. This is the Maiden, the utterly inexperienced, the one bursting with potential.