I woke to a sharp pain in my head, a searing agony cutting through the darkness around me. It felt like I was floating—no, not floating—more like I didn't have a body at all. I couldn't feel my skin, couldn't move my head, as if I had no head to move. It was a strange, hollow sensation, like drifting in an empty void.
This isn't how I imagined the afterlife, I thought, my mind spinning. Not after I died so he could live. The thought hit me like a knife. Him—the boyfriend who had taken everything. My life. My love. All for himself. The unfairness of it gnawed at me, the wound still fresh even in death. I felt a deep emptiness inside, a hollow where my heart should've been.
Then a wave of exhaustion washed over me, too heavy to resist. My thoughts slowed, and with quiet surrender, I drifted into oblivion.
When I woke again—if waking was the right word—warmth flooded through me, soft and comforting. I tried to move, to reach out, but there was no resistance. My hands—my real hands—touched something solid. The sensation was overwhelming.
As I tried to stand, a burst of blinding light erupted around me—red and blue, a kaleidoscope of colors so vivid they burned my vision. I stumbled back, blinking, and as the chaos settled, I saw something entirely new. The light had morphed into stars, stardust, and twisting galaxies. Constellations I didn't recognize spun around me.
It was like looking through a telescope, except I was inside it—floating in the cosmos, my body a tiny part of the universe, so small yet somehow significant. It was awe-inspiring.
I turned my focus inward, to my form. My body wasn't quite there. It was a swirling mass of shadow, as if the darkness itself had taken shape. It swallowed the light around me, devouring it.
As I concentrated, the shadows condensed, folding into a rough human outline. Crude, but mine. I felt more whole, but with it came a bone-deep exhaustion. My vision dimmed again.
When I woke once more, I felt strength coursing through me. My body was more solid, my skin tan and glowing faintly with energy. My form was androgynous, neither fully male nor female—something in between.
But there was more. Power pulsed through me, wild and untamed, waiting to be unleashed. Despite this strength, a deep ache lingered—the memories of my old life, the betrayal, the sacrifice. They clung to me, refusing to let go.
I didn't know what I had become, but I knew one thing: in this new existence, I would be more. I would rise above everything, untouchable by vipers like him.
As I stood, the power within me pulsed, intoxicating and sharp. My mind was clearer than ever, yet it carried something alien—deep, primordial knowledge. Concepts and truths whispered through me: the rules of the universe, the secrets of creation.
It was overwhelming at first, but then a strange purpose settled in. This power wasn't just for me. I could feel the potential to shape, to create. My thoughts, my will, could manifest worlds.
Closing my eyes, I reached inward, grasping that knowledge. I focused on the smallest idea—a spark, a beginning. And then, it formed. A flicker of light and shadow grew into a tiny fragment of reality. Stars shifted. Air thickened. Gravity pulled. Land formed beneath me.
A world.
It was rough, unfinished, but alive. I felt it breathe, stretching across the cosmos. It was mine, born from nothing but my will.
As I gazed at this nascent world, realization struck me. I could do this again—build entire universes. New worlds, new rules, new life.
But a question lingered: would I create something beautiful or destructive?
The thought didn't stop me. I had no past to mourn, no life to return to. I was this now—a creator, a destroyer, a shaper of the void.
And so, I thought of more worlds. Landscapes formed in my mind: forests, oceans, tiny galaxies spinning in my palm. With each creation, my power grew. The darkness I once feared became my strength.
I was a god. And the universe would bend to my will.
As I gazed at the scattered fragments of my creation, I willed them together, weaving threads of energy and matter into a delicate lattice. Slowly, I wrapped them in a shimmering bubble I called reality. My first universe had taken shape—a marble-sized cosmos cradled in my palm.
Within its fragile bounds, swirling clouds of stardust coalesced in hues of gold and violet, their edges aglow with the light of nascent stars. Rivers of brilliance stretched across the void like spilled silver, carving paths through the infinite dark. Planets—mere specks of molten potential—whirled in silent orbits, their surfaces alive with cascading lava and restless storms.
There was no sound, only the hum of existence itself—a rhythm as ancient as time, as new as breath. Oceans of liquid crystal rippled on distant worlds, refracting rainbows into the emptiness. Untamed gases spiraled into nebulae that bloomed like celestial flowers, their luminous petals unfolding with infinite patience.
It was raw, unrestrained beauty—a universe in its infancy, unmarked by thought or ambition. As I held it, a soft glow radiated from its core. Pride swelled within me, tempered by awe. This was creation unburdened—a realm of pure potential, where chaos and harmony danced in perfect, eternal balance.
I descended through the skies of my first planet, its barren land stretching out beneath me. With a thought, the ground was blanketed in lush grass, vibrant green spreading like a living wave. A crisp clap of my hands sent a shockwave rippling across the world, birthing the four cardinal winds that whistled and howled, filling the silent air.
Nearby, a small pond shimmered under the sunlight. I scooped a handful of its cool water, infusing it with my power, and poured it onto the land. The ground softened into mud, and from it, I fashioned the first humans. Fifteen in total—ten females and five males—shaped by my hands, molded in my vision.
Standing over them, I raised my arms and spoke with a voice that shook the heavens. "Be." A surge of green light erupted from within me, spreading across the land. Animals of all kinds sprang to life—birds took to the skies, beasts roamed the plains, and the world sang with the sounds of creation. The mud-formed humans stirred, their bodies infused with a fragment of my essence. They blinked in confusion, murmuring among themselves, their voices joining the chorus of life.
"I am Yidra," I declared, my voice booming across the land.
"Creator god of this planet." My form solidified into a muscular male figure clad in a flowing red toga. My black hair shimmered like silk in the sunlight. My eyes, endless voids of pitch black, held the very essence of creation within them.
"I made you so you may worship me all the days of your lives" I said, my tone steady and commanding.
"Serve me, and you shall live well upon this land." I added
With a raised hand, I summoned a massive obelisk from the ground. The earth trembled violently as it emerged, rising higher and higher, a symbol of my divine presence. The humans fell to their knees in reverence, some trembling with awe, others overwhelmed to the point of soiling themselves.
"Now, I give you these laws," I continued, my voice carrying across the winds.
"They shall guide you and make you better."
I proclaimed:
"You shall not murder.
You shall not steal.
You shall not break oaths.
You shall not corrupt what is good and call it evil.
You shall not glorify what is evil and call it good."
The weight of my words pressed upon them, and they bowed deeper, their foreheads nearly touching the earth. Satisfied, I rose into the sky, leaving them in awe. My form shimmered and disappeared as I ascended beyond their sight, leaving behind the sound of winds and the trembling earth.
Beyond the bounds of reality, I turned my attention to other planets, spreading life across the cosmos. I crafted beings adapted to scorching volcanic worlds, creatures to thrive in frigid, ice-bound wastelands, and others suited to the deepest oceans and the highest peaks. Each creation bore my mark, unique and purposeful, filling the universe with endless diversity.
In the vast silence of the cosmos, I watched my work unfold. The universe was alive, vibrant, and teeming with potential, all under the watchful gaze of its creator.
After watching the universe for a few years, exhaustion overwhelmed me, heavy and unrelenting. I had consumed too much energy too quickly, my form unprepared for such strain. The weight pressed down, and the cosmos around me blurred.
Unable to maintain my body, I let it dissolve, spreading into an infinite shadow that blanketed the area around my newborn cosmos. Stars dimmed, galaxies slowed, as my presence settled over all.
I surrendered to the pull of oblivion, my consciousness fading. My energy pulsed faintly, shielding the fragile universes I had created.
I would sleep, long enough to replenish my power and adjust to the demands of creation. The cosmos would evolve in my absence, growing into its potential.
For now, I rested, cradled in the void of my own making.