The six figures turned toward Michael and, without warning, dropped to their knees. The synchronized motion startled him.
"No, stop," Michael said, taking a step back. "You don't have to do that."
Ashura looked up, her gaze calm and kind. "Why not? We're showing gratitude to our creator."
Michael blinked, confused. "Creator? I'm not your creator. It wasn't me who made you."
Adam tilted his head. "Then who was it?"
Michael hesitated, the memory of the white light flickering in his mind. "I don't know... but maybe we should call it 'god' for now.'"
The group exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.
"God, then," Adam said simply.
Michael sighed, glancing around at the endless void. "Now what? We need solid ground. This floating is getting old."
Ashura closed her eyes, lifting her hands. A soft glow began to spread, the air shifting around them.The first Story fluttered open and without hesitation, they stepped into it.
Michael blinked and found himself standing in an endless white expanse. The silence pressed against him, broken only by the sound of his breathing.
The blank white space stretched infinitely before them, an empty canvas awaiting the touch of creation. Michael stood at the center, feeling both awed and uncertain about what was to come. He looked to the others, who, with newfound purpose, gathered together as if preparing for something monumental.
must build the foundation."
Enryu extended his hands, and the very air seemed to shimmer around him as he summoned the laws that would shape their worlds. At first, they were but whispers—rules that governed the way things could exist, rules of gravity, matter, and motion. Slowly, those whispers grew louder, stronger, until they settled into a pattern that would govern the entire universe.
Oneiro, watching Enryu's work with a contemplative gaze, closed her eyes and reached into the very fabric of the laws. The swirling dream-like energy around her began to take form—soft, glowing tendrils of possibility—and she shaped them into the first worlds, realities that could stretch beyond time, offering any being who entered them the freedom to explore without limits.
Kosha's hands, too, began to glow as he manipulated the flow of creation, his power creating the ever-turning wheel of life and death, each new creation tied to its inevitable rebirth. He called it the cycle, a seamless progression that would ensure nothing was ever truly lost.
Anu, who stood slightly apart, stretched his arms wide as the fabric of the space began to shift in response to his will. Threads of golden light wound their way through the laws and the newly forming worlds, creating a rhythm—a pulse of existence. He brought forth the passage of time, guiding the moment from one to the next, ensuring that every world, every star, every element within their reality would experience a flow that never stopped.
Finally, Ashura stepped forward, her eyes aglow with the power of creation. Her presence was calm yet commanding as she raised her hands high, calling forth the first true story. From her, the core of all stories, the very meaning of existence itself, began to unfold. The stories of each world would be written, each a thread in the vast tapestry of life, binding the worlds together with purpose and meaning.
The space around them began to shimmer, twisting and expanding as their collective will shaped it. Stars blinked into existence, their light breaking through the void. Worlds began to form—vast, swirling spheres of land and sky. Each world was unique, shaped by the laws that Enryu had woven and the realms that Oneiro had dreamed into being.
They created star systems, each a cluster of worlds orbiting around a brilliant sun. All were barren and silent, waiting for the spark of creation to ignite. The endless void, now filled with the beginnings of everything, was a testament to their power.
Michael watched in awe as the stars danced into place, the laws of existence unfurling before his eyes. The world—no, the universe—was alive, breathing with possibility, shaped by the hands of the beings who stood before him.
He could hardly believe it. These were the ones who would shape reality, beginning with entire worlds, entire star systems, and they had only just begun.
As the universe took shape, Michael observed the unfolding creation with a mix of awe and unease. Despite the beauty of the newly formed stars and galaxies, something about it still felt incomplete.
The thought lingered until Anu stepped forward. With a wave of his hand, time surged forward, accelerating millions of times over. Planets that once glowed with molten fury began to cool, their surfaces hardening into stable ground. Oceans swelled, and the first hints of green emerged as plants began to take root.
Michael watched in silence, captivated by the rapid evolution. The barren void was now teeming with potential, each new moment more vibrant than the last. The sight was breathtaking.
Around the garden, the group sat together, observing the passage of countless millennia in mere seconds. Planets flourished, ecosystems thrived, and soon, something remarkable happened.
On one distant world, the first creatures resembling them appeared. At first, they were few, their movements hesitant and primitive. But as more emerged, they grew in number, spreading across the planets, building a foundation for life to flourish.
The universe was no longer empty—it was alive.