Time since the asteroid hit Earth: ~4.7 billion years (subjective to Aryan)
The multiverse seed pulsed — a luminous node cradled in the heart of the Drift.
It wasn't large.
It wasn't loud.
But it was **alive**.
Aryan stood beside it, hands trembling, not from fear… but from reverence.
> "I've built galaxies," he whispered. "But this… this is different."
This seed didn't just contain stars or space. It held the *possibility* of contradiction. Of difference. Of memory. Of **choice**.
> "Are you sure this isn't going to explode into spaghetti?" Light God asked, chewing on a noodle suspiciously.
> "It's stable. Barely. But it's learning from every failed blueprint before it."
Aryan pressed his hand to the surface.
It shimmered and opened — not a portal, but a mirror. Inside, futures danced. Entire timelines blinked into existence and crumbled in microseconds. Some were beautiful. Others horrifying. One showed Aryan himself… vanishing.
> "It's evolving faster than I imagined."
> "Well, you did give it emotional recursion," Light God said. "Congratulations. You made a teenager."
But just as Aryan prepared to release the seed into a stable quantum nursery, **something shifted**.
The void trembled again — but not like before.
This wasn't entropy.
This was… **attention**.
A presence stared at them from beyond the Drift — not from within it, but **outside even its laws**.
Aryan turned slowly. There was no form, no sound, no light — just the undeniable sensation of being **observed**.
> "Light God… do you feel that?"
Light God's noodle snapped mid-chew.
He frowned.
He was *never* scared. But now, he was… quiet.
> "That's not one of mine," he whispered.
A vibration rippled across the monoliths. Equations Aryan hadn't written began rewriting themselves. Symbols turned inward. Some *cried*. One line blinked:
> `Protocol Override: Entity Z Exists.`
> "Who is Z?" Aryan asked aloud.
The seed dimmed for a moment — almost like it *winced*.
Then… a whisper came.
Not in sound.
Not in words.
But in **certainty**:
> *You were never alone in creating alone.*
Aryan stepped back.
> "It's watching my universe before it's even born."
> "It's older than creation," Light God said, now dressed in medieval armor. "And worse… it's patient."
Aryan stabilized the seed, wrapped it in protective memory-netting, and pulled it close.
> "I don't know what Z is," he said. "But I won't let it touch this. Not yet."
> "Protective Space Dad mode: activated," Light God quipped. "Do we have a plan?"
Aryan looked up at the swirling chaos and futures yet unborn.
> "Yes. I launch the seed… and then I go find Entity Z."
> "You're gonna poke the elder god?"
> "I need to know what it wants… before it asks."
With a whisper, Aryan released the seed into the quantum nursery.
It vanished — tucked away in the folds of a newborn possibility.
But the **Watcher** still remained.
Silently.
Patiently.
Waiting.
— End of Chapter 14