The void was quiet.Too quiet.
Not the "peaceful kind of quiet" either — this was the kind that made you question if sound itself had ever been invented.
A thought stirred. The kind of thought that shouldn't exist because technically, nothing did.Then again, "technically" was a mortal word.
"I suppose this is… what they call boredom?"The voice echoed nowhere and everywhere at once — melodious, curious, and perhaps a little smug for someone who hadn't yet invented an audience.
A pause.
Then the voice chuckled softly to itself. "Ah, right. There's no one to answer me. Because I haven't made anyone yet."
Light — if it could be called that — rippled out like laughter. It wasn't bright, or dark, or even visible, but suddenly the nothingness had flavor. A flicker of color here, a spark of shape there. Reality began to blush into existence.
"Alright," the voice mused, "let's start simple."
And with a snap of fingers that didn't exist yet, the very concept of existence got tired of not existing.
Space bloomed.Time stretched lazily.Laws of physics peeked in, shrugged, and decided to stay.
"Good morning, creation!"The voice laughed again — and this time, it had a face.
At first, it was simply… there. No sound, no birth cry of divinity, just a casual manifestation of perfection. Hair darker than the void itself, eyes a blue so sharp that even unformed galaxies might swoon in envy.
If there had been gods, they would've sighed in resignation and quit their divine day jobs.
The newly-formed being stretched, inspecting his freshly defined body with amused satisfaction."Hmm. Handsome. Almost too handsome. Let's tone that down a— oh, who am I kidding, perfection suits me."
He grinned and turned his gaze toward the newborn universe, the edges of his mouth twitching.
"Now then… let's name myself."He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Something mortal, simple… charming but mysterious. Maybe— Lucien. Yes."He smiled at the sound of it. "Lucien. The name of the first being ever to exist. Has a nice ring to it."
He stood, though technically there was no ground, and sighed in satisfaction. "Ah, much better. I feel… me-ish now."
A faint shimmer of energy coalesced beside him.Lucien turned. "Oh? And what's this? The void wants to say hi?"
The shimmer pulsed eagerly, like an excited puppy.
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "No, wait, don't tell me… You want to be an excited puppy?"
The shimmer pulsed twice.
Lucien blinked. Then laughed. "You're kidding— you're actually sentient already? Fine, fine. A companion, huh? I did say this place was boring…"
He clapped his hands. "Then let there be… dog!"
Light burst, and suddenly a shape tumbled out of nothingness — fur golden and gleaming like spun sunlight, eyes bright and loyal, tail wagging so fast it might break the sound barrier (if sound existed yet).
Lucien crouched down, eyes sparkling. "Well, aren't you a divine little furball."
"Woof!"
The bark echoed through creation like a holy proclamation. Somewhere, galaxies formed in excitement.
Lucien stared for a long moment. "Oh no… you're too cute."
"Woof?"
"Yes, yes, I know you didn't choose to be this adorable, but seriously—look at you. You're weaponized wholesomeness."
The golden retriever tilted its head, tongue lolling out happily.
Lucien sighed dramatically. "Fine. You can stay. But you'll need a name. How about… Rorio?"
"Woof!"
"That's a yes, then. Rorio it is."
Lucien smirked proudly. "Lucien, Creator of Existence, and Rorio, the First Dog. Sounds like a legendary duo already."
Rorio wagged his tail so enthusiastically that ripples of divine energy started warping nearby dimensions.
"Hey—hey! Stop that!" Lucien laughed. "You'll unravel reality before we even get to the fun part."
The dog barked again, unapologetic. Lucien squinted, then chuckled. "Alright, you're forgiven. But if we end up with a universe shaped like a bone, I'm blaming you."
Rorio responded by trying to lick Lucien's face, which somehow caused a star to go supernova several billion light-years away.
Lucien blinked. "Okay… note to self: puppy affection equals cosmic explosions. Good to know."
He wiped his cheek, still smiling. "Now then, my fluffy harbinger of chaos, let's make our stage."
With a gesture, Lucien spun his hand through the void. Space coiled, time twisted, and a world began to form beneath his fingers — a breathtaking sphere of blue oceans, green lands, and swirling clouds.
Rorio barked in approval.
"Yes, yes, I know," Lucien said, waving dismissively. "It's cliché. But classics are classics for a reason."
He leaned back, admiring his handiwork. "A nice little world, full of possibilities. Magic, mortals, monsters, maybe even a few overly dramatic heroes."
He chuckled, eyes gleaming. "They'll probably start religions about me before breakfast."
Rorio tilted his head again.
Lucien looked at him slyly. "Don't give me that look. You'll probably get worshipped too, you know. Saint Rorio, Patron of Good Boys."
"WOOF!"
"See? You like the idea already."
Lucien snapped his fingers again, and mountains rose. Forests breathed life. A sun flickered to life above them, burning with radiant joy.
"Hmm. Needs something more… fun."He snapped again. Magic wove itself into the world's core, humming softly like music.
"There," he said, satisfied. "Mana, qi, spiritual essence, whatever the locals want to call it. The fuel for adventure."
Rorio wagged approvingly, tail thumping against reality.
Lucien sighed happily. "It feels good to create again."Then he frowned. "Actually, it feels weird to say again. Did I… do this before?"
He stared into the distance, but the void offered no answer — only a soft, knowing silence.
Lucien shrugged. "Eh, maybe I'll remember after lunch."
"Woof?"
"Yes, I said lunch. I invented hunger to have an excuse to eat."
He conjured a picnic basket from thin air and sat down beside Rorio, who was already drooling.
"Relax," Lucien laughed. "I'll make something good. Let's see… sandwiches? Steak? Cosmic biscuits?"
Rorio barked twice, decisively.
"Steak it is," Lucien said with a grin. "I like your priorities."
As they ate — or pretended to, since technically food was just restructured matter and neither of them needed sustenance — Lucien looked at his reflection in the rippling fabric of reality.
"Not bad," he murmured, brushing back his black hair. "Blue eyes really sell the mysterious-god vibe. I should start charging for divine appearances."
Rorio barked something that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"Oh, don't start, you golden menace," Lucien said, tossing him a steak. "You're lucky you're cute."
Rorio caught it midair, tail wagging so fast it generated a soft breeze that accidentally gave birth to wind as a natural phenomenon.
Lucien blinked. "Oh, great. Now I have weather. Thanks, Rorio."
He leaned back on one elbow, gazing at the newborn world spinning below. "Still, not bad for a day's work. A universe, a body, a best friend, and some steak. Productive."
A pause.
Then, as if remembering something, Lucien turned to the void — and waved.
"Oh! You're still here, dear readers?" he said, smiling directly at the invisible audience. "How rude of me not to greet you sooner."
Rorio perked up, ears twitching.
"Yes, yes," Lucien continued. "I can see you squinting from behind that fourth wall. Welcome! Welcome to my humble, absolutely mundane life."
Rorio barked skeptically.
"Don't you start," Lucien said. "I'm trying to sound modest."
He grinned again, that infuriatingly charming grin that could topple pantheons.
"Anyway, feel free to join us as we wander a few worlds, meddle with destiny, maybe accidentally rewrite reality a couple of times— the usual creator stuff. Nothing serious."
Rorio barked twice, then looked toward the newly made planet and wagged his tail.
Lucien followed his gaze. "Ah, you want to go already? Hasty little thing."
He chuckled, rising to his feet and brushing invisible dust off his perfect clothes.
"Alright then, Rorio. Let's make an entrance."
He extended his hand, the air shimmering around it. "Next stop: adventure, chaos, and probably a few confused mortals wondering why their god has a dog."
Rorio barked enthusiastically and jumped straight into the light — vanishing into the forming world below.
Lucien sighed fondly. "Impatient as ever."
He gave the void one last smile. "Well, readers, if you're still watching— try to keep up, alright?"
With that, he snapped his fingers and followed the golden retriever into his brand-new reality.
The light swallowed him, the void quieted once more, and the first chapter of creation closed with the faint echo of laughter.