In the void of space, where silence stretched without end, something broke the nihility.
At first, there was nothing. Not even darkness, just the endless absence of existence.
Then, there was a spark.
Like a single brushstroke on a blank canvas, a blue crystal appeared. No reason, no origin. Just suddenly there out of nothing. It aimlessly floated, weird but it was real, as if it was mocking the emptiness of the void.
The next moment, another something pressed itself next to it but this time it was a stone brick. Then another. And another. Slowly, with the rhythm of creation, a foundation began to take shape.
It wasn't chaotic. It was done with intention. Each fragment of matter snapped into place as though following a blueprint that no one could see but everything could feel.
A barren land formed and expanded, stretching into plains of stone and soil. Gravity descended like a silent decree, pulling the floating dust into clumps, clumps into boulders and boulders into mountains.
The air followed. Invisible streams of energy condensed from space, weaving an atmosphere layer by layer onto the world, like a child putting armor over their father for a coming war.
Clouds swirled. Oceans poured into existence from crashing cold and icy comets, waves crashed against newborn cliffs as though they had always been waiting.
From nothing, a world was being written.
Line by line, word by word, brick by brick.
In just mere seconds.
And though no voice spoke, every detail carried one undeniable truth.
A realm is being built, and this is only just the beginning.
And what caused this sudden miracle of creation?
High above it all, a figure floated outside the world's atmosphere. A black silhouette, hazy like smoke, in the tiny form of man yet imposing, stood at the pinnacle of nothingness. It looked like the embodiment of shadows and fog.
Two eyes, glowed faintly from this entity, piercing through the endless sea of stars.
"…This looks way too ugly. I really don't have what it takes to be an artist, do I?"
The voice was casual, almost bored, very human, like someone doodling and already dissatisfied with their first sketch like a little loser.
His goal wasn't incredibly profound. He just wanted to build a world… and mess around with it if he wanted. After all, what else could he do?
On Earth, his story ended pathetically. The zombie apocalypse broke out, and he didn't even make it to day two!
Bitten early, he was one of the many nameless losers swept aside by the increasing hordes of undead.
But when his consciousness flickered back into existence, he wasn't human anymore. He wasn't even flesh. He was a black mass of gas, floating in the boundless vacuum of space.
And the rules? They changed.
In an instant, he realized he could do anything.
It was dream-like, simply absurd!
He could create. He could expand his awareness. He could edit matter with a thought. Knowledge came when he wanted it, as if the universe itself answered his curiosity.
He was, in every sense… a god.
So, what does a god in the middle of a sad, empty, cosmic canvas decide to do?
Naturally, he chose the most bad-ass option a god can do:
Build a planet. Not a ball of rock, no. A living breathing world!
A place that could sustain life, grow civilizations, raise creatures and maintain itself and its inhabitants.
To him, humans were already something he's sick of but for the sake of nostalgia, well, he decided evolution here would follow a path very close to Earth's.
It would feel kind of weird, afterall...
Looking down and seeing tall blue monkeys running around riding blue flying lizards instead of the usual pink, hairless idiots he was used to.
So, comets it was.
With a flick of his will, several streaks of burning blue light tore across space, penetrated the atmosphere and slammed into the newborn planet. They weren't random and accidental. Each one carried the ingredients for life, highly identical to what once struck earth, just like Earth's beginning. Only this time, with a small twist.
He added magic.
Yes, magic. The kind of energy that ridiculed science, disrespected physics, and let someone conjure fire in their palms before hurling it at someone like a discount grenade off Temu.
Of course, he wasn't about to let the place turn into some cheap fantasy MMO, this wasn't that world.
Magic would exist, yes. But it would be rare. A scarce treasure, not some common toy to play around with.
He lifted his hand, and in front of him, gears of golden light materialized and formed into a floating clock.
He rotated his wrist clockwise.
The planet obeyed his silent command.
Time surged forward.
And the clockhands began to move.
Days and nights flickered like candle flames. Seasons blurred into each other, streaks of green and white and brown swept across the surface. Mountains rose, rivers carved valleys, and continents shifted.
Faster, faster and faster.
From his vantage, the world wasn't a planet anymore— it was a spinning ball whirring at impossible speeds. If someone bigger than the planet were dumb enough to touch it, their skin might peel right off.
And he, the almighty one? He just watched with a lazy stare, fast-forwarding a boring show to get to the good part.
If he had a mouth, he'd be smiling by now while waiting. But sadly, he doesn't.
Afterall, he's just "something" at this point. Barely describable and only exists visually.
After a long while, he was satisfied and let the golden clock's hand freeze mid-turn.
Instantly, the planet's dizzying spin slowed and returned to the regular passage of time.
The result made even him pause.
What once looked like a messy lump of rock was now transformed. Oceans glistened like moving, waving sapphire.
Forests and hills spread across the land.
Mountains pierced the skies with sacrosanct solace, crowned by white snow at the very summit.
It didn't look artificial anymore, it looked...
Natural.
As though this Earth-like world had always existed, untouched, just waiting to be discovered.
Totally didn't look like it was created just a minute ago.
"Haha. Not bad. Is this what they say about just trusting the process?"
He nodded to himself, a little smug but satisfied.
This wasn't the patchwork mess he first started with. This was the kind of sight that could steal the breath of any mortal who dared to look upon it.
A world shaped by chaos, refined by time, sculpted by fate.
And of course, he knew it himself.
Without him, this place wouldn't exist.
Every tree, every mountain, every crashing wave... It all carried his imaginary and obviously non-existent fingerprint. The beauty of nature? Please. It was the beauty of his boredom and the willingness to create!
And, well... The power of coincidence.
So in the end, this ultimately felt to him like an ordinary dude starting to do art for the first time and once it's finished, they call it a day.
"Alright then… let's see how you'll do once I add a few residents."
His glowing eyes curved with amusement. The canvas was ready. Now it was time to add the characters.
And bring them to life.