By IMERPUS RELUR
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Darkness breathed.
Not the suffocating kind born of fear or the empty voids of death—but a warm, infinite stillness that pulsed like a womb. Floating in the formless cradle, a single presence stirred.
He didn't know his name.
He didn't know what "he" was.
But he felt.
Like a whisper etched into bone, a thought rose:
> "You were once everything. And now… you are the seed of something new."
A shimmering pulse rippled from his chest. He blinked, though he had no eyes, and the darkness thinned.
Above him, stars blinked into being—not in the sky, but inside his mind.
Below him, a faint ground formed from dust and memory.
And around him… the shadows began to move.
He landed gently on his feet. His body—no longer formless—was pale, lean, and wrapped in tattered golden fabric that shimmered like divine ash. His hair flowed weightlessly, and his skin glowed faintly with a soft blue aura.
He looked around.
Nothing but empty plains.
> "Where… am I?"
The words echoed, not aloud, but through the very space itself.
Suddenly, a small light floated out from his chest. It hovered, flickering like a dying star, before dissolving into mist.
And from that mist—a creature appeared.
It was tiny, no taller than his knee. Its body was translucent and softly glowing, its face serene. A feminine figure… humanoid in shape, with liquid wings that hummed with sorrow.
The being opened its eyes and looked up at him.
> "Creator," she whispered.
"Why do you weep?"
Auren blinked. He hadn't realized tears were falling.
He dropped to his knees. "What are you…?"
> "I am your first race," she said gently. "Born from your first emotion."
> "Sorrow?"
> "No," she smiled. "Compassion."
And in that moment, he felt it. A surge. A pulse.
Like a heartbeat—echoing from the core of this strange plane.
Something within him had awoken.
A new light erupted from his body, this time brighter. And the plains around him shifted. Hills formed. Skies colored. Air began to breathe.
He wasn't just alive.
He was a God.