It is unknown how a Pheyden is created - energy? Some cosmic quirk? The whim of a god or gods?
Regardless, in most cases, Pheyden is brought into existence as a fully-formed, functional minded being.
But there was one time that this was not the case...
On the planet Pyros, a war raged between the Pyrians and their natural nemesis on the planet, the Daemos. The battle was brutal - bodies lay stacked in neat rows outside the capital city of Pyros. A special commando team from planet Metran was sent to Pyros to investigate.
The war was nearly over - the Pyrians had decimated the Daemos. But there was an undercurrent on the planet of something big about to occur - even the Metrans could feel it.
Intelligence was nil - there was no indication of any Daemon counter-offensive - but the Metrans could feel something worse on the horizon.
The leader of the Metran commandos took his team deep into Daemon territory, joined by a few of the best Pyrians. They discovered something horrible occurring within the Daemon's home city.
Feeling that they could not win the war through normal means, the Daemon focused all of their energy on a doomsday weapon - something that could win the war for them with little effort.
The efforts of their scientists - and their occultists - lead to the creation of a glove. The glove, when worn, would channel the powers of the universe and beyond, giving the wearer near-unlimited energy to control. The glove had been activated and ready to go for a period of time; enough time to start to subconciously begin to project the attitudes of the Daemon over the entire planet. The problem, you see, that the Daemon found was deciding who should wear the glove into battle. It became a political debate - while their soldiers died on the battlefield, the politicians played a game of "who has the most scroat".
The Metran commando leader knew that the glove had to be destroyed, at all costs. Even bringing it back to Metran could lead to planetary disaster.
Little did he know that the universe had other plans...
The commandos set their plan - it would be a quick jaunt into the place where the glove was kept, set some bombs, and get the hell out. If they could preserve their own lives, that would be a plus.
The plan went as it had been visualized. The commandos made it into the room with the glove - and then all hell broke loose. The Daemon army had found out what their politicians were doing. The leader of the army then cast a new vote - for death to the politicians. He would wear the glove and end this battle. Unfortunately for the commandos, this happened while they were placing the bombs.
The commandos were caught in a room with only one exit, blocked in by an army desparate to get the glove. The lead commando fought hard, watching his comrades fall. Time was running out - the bombs had only a short time before detonation.
It was then that he thought of the glove. If the commando put on the glove, he would become all-powerful. He could fight his way through the army, end the conflict, and get off of planet Pyros. He grabbed the glove and checked the timer - but a stray phase blast slapped the explosives*
The world disappeared, and the commando felt his conciousness go with it. There was no more bomb, no more room, no more war - only the vastness of space. Memory started to fade - his childhood on Metran, his first mate, the acts of terror against Metran by the Sincroids, the creation of the Sa- it was gone. All gone.
But his mind did not disappear. What could be called his personality came together again, memory-free.
Once again, his eyes opened, but his sight was different. His eyes had...changed somehow. He looked at his body, and it was alien to his mind. Shockingly enough, his right hand was not a hand - it was a large glove, transparent red and glowing with power. He looked at it carefully, eying the strange energy contained within. Someone was calling a name...was it his name? It was a commando, dressed in a blue and grey outfit. A weapon was pointed at him - a phase arm! He knew it was called a phase arm, but did not know how or why he knew that. Sounds came from his face, but not a mouth, more like a pulsing skin of flesh over a set of teeth. The Metran raised his visor, terror in his eyes. "Darta'gan?"
The name registered - it was his, or was his once. But no longer. In the reflection of the Metran's eyes, Darta'gan knew he was different.
It took time, but it all had been explained to him. Dara'gan had been a commando for the Metrans. He had tried to blow up a weapon of the Daemon, but had been somehow changed and fused with it. The powers of the glove had been much overrated, as far as destructive capability went. But they did bring him back to life, in a different, alien form.
He would become known as the Hell Daemon, a secret operative for planet Metran, taking care of the problems it could not take care of publicly.
His existence was a secret for many years...this was one of the most well-known captures of his visage:
Later, after Metran Pheyden came to be the protector of planet Metran, Hell Daemon came to realize his true origin as a Pheyden, and partnered with Metran Pheyden in his adventures.