A few hours later, Arjun sat in a modest one-bedroom apartment. It wasn't luxurious, but it had everything he needed—a kitchen, a bathroom, and the essentials like running water and electricity, available 24/7. It was a simple place, yet it felt like a luxury compared to the chaos of the past few days.
The rent cost him 100 points per week, and he paid for a full month upfront. At least for now, he had a roof over his head.
Standing by the small induction stove, he watched as the rice cooked. The soft bubbling sound and the faint aroma filled the air, bringing a strange sense of comfort. When was the last time he had a proper meal? He couldn't even remember.
Taking a bite, he let the warm grains rest on his tongue, savoring the simplicity of it. It wasn't anything special, but after everything he had been through, it tasted better than any feast.
His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but his mind refused to rest. Sitting on the bed, he exhaled deeply before entering his inner space.
The first thing he checked was his energy reserves.
[ Energy: 15,880 ]
"Not bad," he murmured. "At least now I can push the time acceleration forward for a few years."
His gaze fell upon the planet below. The world was still in its Jurassic age—massive creatures roamed the land, ruling with sheer dominance. Dinosaurs, towering mammals, creatures from an ancient past.
A faint smile touched his lips. "Sorry… and thank you for your service. But it's time to make way for the future."
With a wave of his hand, an invisible force spread across the world. One by one, the great beasts began to fall. Some perished swiftly, while others faded slowly over time. He spared only a few, but the vast majority met their end. A mass extinction, orchestrated by his will.
The weight of his actions pressed on him for a moment, but he shook it off. This was necessary. Evolution had to move forward.
With a deep breath, he directed his focus back to time acceleration. This time, he had far more energy than before. The flow of time surged ahead—thousands of years turned to millions. Continents drifted, shifting and settling into new formations.
Life adapted. The remnants of the past gave birth to new creatures. The skies saw the rise of birds, their ancestors once mighty winged reptiles. Grasslands flourished, paving the way for herds of animals—horses, elephants, and countless others.
Then, the moment he had been waiting for arrived.
The first primates appeared. Small, covered in thick fur, their eyes gleaming with the first sparks of intelligence. The world was changing, shaping itself into something familiar yet different.
He let time slow to its normal flow.
[ Energy: 500 ]
His gaze lingered on the newly evolved creatures. They were close to humans—but not quite. Their intelligence was there, but it was… different. Shaped by an alien world, by forces distinct from Earth.
That was a problem.
If left alone, they might never build civilizations. They could remain hunters, forever bound to an endless cycle of survival. Or worse… they could evolve into something entirely unrecognizable.
He couldn't let that happen.
Taking a deep breath, he reached out—not with his hands, but with his will. As the omniscient being of this world, he could sense the threads of their thoughts, the potential futures branching out before them.
Deep in the forests, a small tribe gathered around a dimly glowing ember. They had seen fire before—after a lightning strike or a volcanic eruption—but they feared it. They had never dared to control it.
He could have simply told them what to do. But knowledge given too easily is soon forgotten. Instead, he chose to guide—to nudge, not command.
And so, he focused on one of them.
Arjun descended into their world, unseen, and with a mere thought, he whispered an idea into on of their minds.
A lone figure stood at the edge of the burned forest, staring at the charred land with wide, thoughtful eyes. The fire that had raged days ago had vanished, leaving behind the blackened remains of trees and animals.
Yet, instead of fear, something else burned within him—curiosity.
The taste of cooked meat had been a revelation. Unlike the raw, chewy flesh they had always eaten, the burned meat was softer, richer—easier to consume.
And he wanted more of it.
But how could he bring fire back?
Then, it happened.
A rock tumbled down from a steep hill, crashing against another. Sparks flew for an instant—a tiny burst of light before vanishing.
The being's eyes locked onto the stones. His mind, once primitive and unthinking, now raced with the whisper of something new.
He walked toward the rocks, picked up two of them, and smashed them together.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
Frustration built in his chest. He growled, banging the stones harder.
Then—a spark.
A flicker of light. Gone in an instant, but it was there.
His breathing quickened. He tried again, this time over a pile of dry grass.
Crack!
The stones struck, and this time, the spark caught. A tiny ember glowed on the grass.
The being gasped. Instinctively, he leaned in and blew gently.
The ember grew.
And then—fire.
A tiny flame danced in front of him, casting its warm glow against his awestruck face. His fingers trembled as he reached out. The warmth licked at his skin, but it did not hurt.
It was alive. It was his. He was jumping around in joy showing others. Everyone started dancing in joy.
For the first time, he had control over the flames.
Arjun, watching from above, smiled.
The first step had been taken. The path to civilization had begun.
A wave of joy spread through the newly created humans as they explored their world, their simple minds marveling at the wonders around them. Watching them, Arjun felt something stir within him—not just satisfaction, but curiosity.
This was an experiment, after all.
There was something peculiar about his connection to these beings. Every skill they learned, every instinct they developed—it became his as well. The realization left him both intrigued and excited.
It was like he was linked to them on a fundamental level. If a fish learned to navigate treacherous currents, he would instinctively know how to do the same. If he stepped into the ocean, he could swim as effortlessly as any sea creature. And more than that—he could become one.
His first transformation had been a mere accident. When he had shifted into a bee, he hadn't known the extent of his ability. But now? Now he understood.
He could change completely—his body reshaping itself to match the creature—or he could transform only partially, borrowing select traits as he wished.
His mind raced with possibilities.
The eyes of a hawk, capable of spotting movement from miles away. The claws of a predator, sharp enough to tear through flesh. The speed of a cheetah, the resilience of a bear, the delicate precision of a spider weaving its web.
A grin tugged at his lips. This was incredible. He wasn't just the creator of this world—he was everything in it. Every creature was an extension of himself, and their strengths were his to claim.
But his excitement was dampened by a frustrating limitation.
He could shape and manipulate everything within his inner world, but he couldn't take those creations outside. If he willed it, a glass of water could turn into the finest wine, but the moment he tried to bring it out… nothing. It remained trapped in his space, bound by invisible laws.
It wasn't just food or liquid. He had tried with soil, rocks, even materials he had created using energy. The results were the same—his artificial creations couldn't leave.
However, there was an exception.
If something formed naturally inside the space—like gold created through geothermal processes—it could be taken out without issue. And anything that originally belonged to the outside world could pass back through freely.
Arjun let out a slow breath, leaning back in thought.
If only he had discovered this earlier. In the past, he could have taken out gold and diamonds, selling them for a fortune. But now? The world had changed. The economy had crumbled, and luxuries meant nothing.
Gold and diamonds held no real value anymore.
These days, guns and bullets were worth more than anything else.
A bitter chuckle escaped him. "Funny how things change…"
Still, limitations or not, this power was more than he had ever imagined. And he wasn't done exploring its depths.
Arjun glanced at his energy reserves. It was low.
He let out a sigh. It was time to hunt again. But before that, there were still a few things he needed to take care of.
Turning his focus back to the planet, he observed the slow passage of time. Though the acceleration was low, a few years had already gone by.
In those years, a single man had risen above the rest—the fire-maker. The one who had first wielded flames now sat at the head of his tribe, draped in power and privilege. His people revered him, offering him wealth, influence, and wives—twenty or thirty, at least.
Arjun smirked. Fire had given him dominance. It was human nature, after all. Those who controlled power always found themselves at the top.
But power alone wouldn't sustain them forever.
They needed more than fire. They needed stability, food, and a future.
It was time for agriculture.
Descending near a riverbank where fertile soil stretched for miles, Arjun knelt and ran his fingers through the earth. It was rich, dark, and ready. With a flick of his wrist, he scattered a handful of seeds. Then, closing his eyes, he reached deep within himself, drawing on his remaining energy.
The earth trembled.
The soil shifted, inhaled, and exhaled like a living thing.
Then, life erupted. Tiny green shoots pierced the surface, growing, stretching toward the unseen sun. Their roots dug deep, stalks thickening, leaves unfurling. Within moments, golden rice fields swayed gently in the breeze, abundant and full.
A self-sustaining food source.
But there was a problem—he couldn't take the rice out of this space. Anything created through his power remained bound within. It would belong to this world and this world alone.
Arjun exhaled slowly. That didn't matter. What mattered was ensuring the tribe accepted this gift.
Turning his attention back to the fire-maker, Arjun reached out—not physically, but mentally. A whisper, a spark of knowledge, a vision. He planted it deep within the man's subconscious, embedding it into his dreams.
The next morning, the fire-maker awoke with a fire in his heart.
He had seen something—a divine gift, a secret from the gods. Without hesitation, he gathered his people and led them to the riverbank.
And there it was.
The golden fields stretched before them, swaying in the wind as if greeting their arrival. The chief's breath hitched. His eyes widened in disbelief, then joy. A wild, primal cry tore from his throat as he dropped to his knees.
Then, he began to dance.
At first, it was erratic, uncontrolled—his limbs moving as if possessed. But soon, the others followed, caught in his frenzy of elation. Their voices rose in strange, guttural chants, an instinctive celebration of abundance.
Arjun watched from afar, a sense of satisfaction settling over him. What should have taken thousands of years had happened in mere months.
But his work was far from over.
He clenched his fist. His power wasn't limitless, and his own survival depended on the success of this civilization. Every decision he made now could shape—or destroy—everything.
Failure wasn't an option.
After a few days of careful planning, Arjun decided to leave his apartment.
The city outside was a Level-3 public area, meaning he was free to move within certain boundaries. The inner sections, however, were restricted to Level-2 and above personnel.
Not that it was impossible to bypass.
He smirked to himself. Rules only applied to those who followed them.
Stepping near a window, he glanced around. No one was paying attention. Good.
Closing his eyes, he let the change wash over him. His body shrank, bones reshaping, muscles shifting. Feathers sprouted from his skin, and within seconds, he was no longer human.
A small bird now fluttered in his place, its tiny wings beating rapidly.
Without hesitation, he leaped from the window.
The wind caught him instantly, lifting him higher. The city stretched below, a vast maze of buildings and pathways, oblivious to the tiny creature soaring above.