Before life was born, before the universe took shape, there was nothing. No light, no darkness, no beings—not even time existed. There was only one presence: Arunasar, the One. Eternal, formless, boundless, encompassing all that had yet to be. He was the beginning of every possibility, and the end of every form.
When sky and earth were still fused in an undefined unity, Arunasar separated them. From a single, indivisible point of density, He unleashed a tremendous explosion. What was once one now expanded endlessly, rippling like ceaseless waves across the eternal ocean. From that explosion came a sea of cosmic chaos—smoke billowed, darkness spun, and from that vortex Arunasar began to build all that would one day surround His Throne.
The Throne towered vast and wide, standing atop a boundless ocean. Compared to it, the newly separated sky and earth were mere grains of sand adrift in an infinite sea. There, Arunasar established the center of His will.
From that ocean, Arunasar created a Brush. To it He called out, His voice echoing through the void,
"O Brush, paint beauty upon that darkness."
But the Brush replied hesitantly, its voice trembling,
"My Lord… the beings You will create may bring ruin to it."
Arunasar rebuked it with an undeniable firmness,
"Mind your words, Brush. I know what will come to pass, and what you do not yet know."
Frightened, the Brush fell silent. Its bristles began to shed one by one, quivering under the weight of Arunasar's decree, yet it dared not protest further. It bowed, awaiting the next command.
Then from the ocean surrounding the Throne, Arunasar created a Light. This Light was not mere brightness, but a pure substance woven from love, knowledge, patience, reason, and sacred mysteries that would become the essence of future creations.
Yet to keep the sea of darkness from collapsing and to preserve its balance, Arunasar also created a Great Giant named Atumir. His form was immeasurable, his shoulders upright, bearing all that rested above him. He became the foundation for sky, earth, and all life that would one day bloom upon that eternal base.
Arunasar once again commanded the Brush,
"O Brush, do not fear. It is not you who decides what will happen, but Me. Move your bristles, and paint the sky with eternal colors. Draw paths for the stars, carve arcs for the moon and sun. Scatter sparks so that millions of lights may be born to illuminate the cosmos.
If you are afraid, let Me guide you. You are but a tool in My hand; so do not waver, for every stroke that flows from you is My will."
The Brush began to move slowly in Arunasar's hand. Each bristle that touched the cosmic darkness sparked light, forming winding lines that marked the birth of stars and galaxies. Arunasar watched His creation—not hurriedly, but with purpose—each motion of the Brush a command, rich with meaning.
From every stroke of the Brush, Arunasar created the Cosmic Wind. It whispered between light and dark, carrying grains of energy and cosmic dust that gradually gathered into planets, moons, and stellar cores. The waves of energy danced along the painted lines, as if eager to help the Brush complete its masterpiece.
"You see, Brush," said Arunasar, His voice echoing across the ocean of emptiness, "Each stroke of yours is not merely a painting, but the foundation of all that will exist."
Amid the sparks of light, Arunasar channeled the Wave of Time. Time flowed unevenly across each point—some slow, some swift—allowing stars to be born, die, and be reborn in rhythms only He understood. The Brush paused, awestruck as its painted lines shifted and transformed with the current of time.
From the vortex of energy, Arunasar divided light and darkness. From light, He created the Guardians of Harmony—beings of pure radiance, their forms ever-shifting, sometimes like mist, sometimes like shimmer. They danced between lines and colors, preserving the balance between brightness and shadow, chaos and order. The Brush felt as though its painting had come alive, yet it feared to touch it further.
Arunasar named these guardians: Nuwarcana, the great angel who watched over His Throne. As complement, Arunasar created the chairs and table of the Tribunal of Judgment, stationed in the upper heavens. He also formed winged angels of light to assist Nuwarcana in his duties.
Arunasar added the River of Energy, a stream connecting stars, planets, and nebulae. This river was composed of love, reason, knowledge, and patience, flowing endlessly as a conduit for future creations to remain intertwined. The Brush watched the river's light wrap around each stroke of color, turning a once-static painting into a heartbeat of life.
Lastly, from the deepest silence of darkness, Arunasar created countless primordial voids. They were not planets, nor stars, but drifting spaces suspended in the emptiness. There, beings made of fire—later known as demons—came into existence, each with its own form, power, and will—a reflection of rage, envy, greed, fear, and many other emotions yet to be born in creation. They bore horns and wings, each shaped by its own desire. The Brush gazed at those floating isles in awe, realizing that its smallest stroke had become the foundation of infinite possibility.
This energy became the bedrock of Heaven and Hell, the arena for inevitable cosmic conflict.
Arunasar leaned forward, gazing at the trembling Brush.
"Keep painting, O Brush. I have prepared all that you need. From your strokes, life will be born, and through life, the universe will learn of love, loss, and hope."
Though still gripped by fear, the Brush now felt a profound sense of duty. It began to move with newfound confidence, and with each stroke, light and energy danced, shaping the first universe ever to exist.
After the Brush swept across sky and shadow with its first stroke, Arunasar watched His creation with deep intent. Light and darkness had now been separated, yet both still surged wildly, untamed, like waves defying order. So He lowered His hand and called out, His voice echoing across the cosmic sea,
"Now, I shall give form to all possibility."
From the gently pulsing pure light, Arunasar shaped Heaven—a grand realm filled with radiant energy. Within it, loyal angels would learn, grow, and safeguard the universe's balance. Light danced through the air, forming towering spires, gracefully arched bridges, and endlessly shimmering corridors. Soft chimes rang among the light, creating an eternal symphony that strengthened every being present. They embodied emotions of love, hope, sincerity, and courage.
Meanwhile, from the throbbing, turbulent dark, Arunasar created Hell—a realm of shadowed energy radiating fury, greed, and fear. Here, the first beings known as demons were born. Each possessed a unique form: horned, winged, or echoing wild, untamed inner power. They were reflections of creation's negative energies, yet remained a vital part of the cosmic balance that could not be ignored.
Arunasar gazed upon both—Heaven and Hell—and spoke with a voice that shook the very fabric of space,
"These two sides must challenge one another, so that the life to come may understand what light is, and what darkness means. Without conflict, there is no learning. Without trials, there is no growth."
From the fusion of radiant and shadowed energy, Arunasar created the first and greatest soul. This soul was not merely an entity—it was a sacred vessel from which all other spirits would be born. The lives of angels and demons were drawn from within it, making it the primary source of existence that would fill the universe.
Light from this soul spread across the cosmic sea, illuminating spaces once ruled by chaos. That light seeped into every being yet to be created, saturating them with both positive and negative energies. From this grand soul, Arunasar brought forth countless living creatures that would one day inhabit the cosmic ocean and all its realms.
This soul was the most beautiful being ever created before the universe came into being. It was formed from a substance beyond comparison, indescribable by shape or measure. Its head was made of pure reason, its neck of sincere humility, its eyes of simplicity and honesty, its brow of love for all beings, its mouth of boundless patience, its tongue of unwavering resolve, its cheeks of cautious affection, its stomach capable of holding all worldly things yet to exist, its feet of courage and hope, and its heart filled with endless grace and unshakable faith.
Arunasar taught this soul throughout time about all things noble and magnificent. And so He named it: Anpavie.
For Anpavie, Arunasar created a tree of immense size and majesty, called Ashyggor. The tree rose high in the center of the cosmic sea, its roots piercing through space and time, its branches touching the edges of the universe. When Arunasar placed Anpavie upon it, the tree trembled violently, radiating a light that made it shine like a jewel never before seen in all of creation.
Anpavie, now standing atop Ashyggor, gazed at its reflection on the tree's surface. Its form resembled a white swan with a single horn on its forehead, its feathers shimmering in hues of green and red, its tail adorned with mesmerizing "eyes." Upon its head rested a crown encrusted with celestial gems that glowed with heavenly light. Beholding the majesty of Arunasar, Anpavie bowed repeatedly, overwhelmed with reverence and awe.
Arunasar looked upon it, and His gaze filled Anpavie with fear and humility. From its trembling body, sweat began to fall. From that sweat, Arunasar created the lives of angels. From Anpavie's face, He formed the spirits that would fill the heavens: the sun, the moon, the stars, and all celestial bodies being painted by the Brush.
From the sweat of its chest, Arunasar created the souls of those pure in His path—wise kings, kind-hearted leaders, and all positive energies that would uphold the balance of the cosmos. From its ears, He created the souls of those who would bring destruction and test the universe. From the sweat of its feet, Arunasar formed the contents of the many planets that would take shape across the vast expanse.
As a dwelling for Anpavie, Arunasar created a lantern of exquisite beauty, golden and silver in hue. The lantern glowed softly, reflecting light in all directions, and became the sacred vessel for the great soul. He placed the lantern atop Ashyggor, making it the focal point of all creation.
Meanwhile, the souls of every living being already formed were commanded to behold Anpavie before they descended into the universe. They were to witness the beauty and perfection of this great soul, so that they might understand their origin and carry within them the trace of light and darkness that Arunasar had instilled.
All the souls that had been created turned their gaze toward Anpavie, the center of light radiating from the heart of the cosmos. Their gaze was not empty—it was an acknowledgment of the destiny each would one day fulfill: to become professions, roles, and forces scattered across the vast reaches of the universe. Those who could see nothing within Anpavie, perceiving only a dim lantern suspended in the void, would become worshippers of every form of evil. These souls would unravel order, tear at the balance, and stain creation itself. Meanwhile, those who saw nothing at all—not even the lantern—would declare themselves gods, placing ego above all cosmic law, daring to challenge Arunasar Himself.
All the souls were arranged in four rows beneath the light of the Ashyggor tree. The first row held the souls of wise leaders, those who would stand firm against all forms of evil and safeguard the balance of the universe. In the second row were the souls of the saints—unyielding in their convictions, untouched by temptation or threat, pillars of unwavering spiritual strength. The third row was filled with the souls of men and women who would live lives of complexity, becoming movers of history and guardians of legacy. In the fourth stood the rebel souls, those who would defy all that had been established, challenge the order, and ignite unforeseen change.
These four rows remained under the canopy of Ashyggor, whose roots stretched into the dimension of time and whose branches pierced the edges of reality. They waited for the moment when Arunasar, the all-knowing and merciful, would send them into the physical world. No creature knew when that moment would come—only Arunasar held the secret of time. Every one hundred and forty thousand years, a beam of light would shine from the Ashyggor tree, a light emerging from behind Arunasar's Throne, guarded by Nuwarcana. From that light would be born more than ten million soul manifestations, countless in number, beyond logic, and unknowable to any being.
Arunasar then created the River of Energy—an invisible current carrying love, reason, knowledge, and patience. This river flowed through the laws of the cosmos, linking stars, planets, and nebulae in a single breath of the universe. The Brush, the creature tasked with painting the first cosmos, watched as the river's light wrapped around every stroke of color it laid down. The painting was no longer just an image—it was a pulse of life that made the universe beat.
Though still touched by fear, the Brush now felt a profound sense of duty. Each stroke of its bristles channeled light and energy, shaping the first universe ever to exist—a place where love, chaos, light, and darkness would converge. That world would become the stage for lessons in love, loss, betrayal, and hope. And from there, history would begin.