The Weight of Creation Talent
In myths and legends across countless tales, there exists an omnipotent being who crafts worlds and universes from nothing. A god who creates myriad lifeforms and matter, building and sustaining entire realms—the Creator God.
Asrie had introduced herself as one such being.
"To put it simply, I created Earth."
Asrie said this as she pulled her lips from the glass of cola, her glossy red lips gleaming with a seductive sheen. Kim Jihun stared at her, thinking,
She expects me to believe this scene?
Asrie was casually drinking the cola Jihun had bought, pulling it straight from the fridge without a word. With her other hand, she grabbed a potato chip from the open bag and popped it into her mouth. The crisp crunch echoed through Jihun's empty room. The avant-garde sight of a beautiful woman with white wings devouring cola and chips left him speechless.
"So... you're a Creator God?"
Jihun finally managed after a dazed pause.
Asrie nodded easily, as if it were the most natural thing.
"Yeah."
"Who?"
"Me. And you."
"Me too? Why?"
Maybe she'd finished the chips, because Asrie slipped her crumb-covered fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean with a soft smack. Watching her glossy lips glide over her slender fingers, Jihun suddenly worried his lower half might react.
"I'm a Creator God by birthright, with the divine rank to match. You don't have the rank, but you possess the Creation Talent that even gods envy."
Asrie began explaining the Creation Talent.
Gods are born with countless talents. What takes talented humans decades of practice, gods achieve in a handful of tries. Topics humans ponder and research for centuries or millennia, gods grasp in mere minutes of contemplation. Gods are an overwhelmingly gifted race—omnipotent and omniscient compared to humans.
And among those god races, the most noble talent of all is Creation Talent. A profoundly rare gift held by only the tiniest fraction of even those mighty gods.
"It's not something humans should have."
Asrie said flatly.
Even gods can't claim it freely—it's that noble and grand. No one had ever predicted a human might possess it.
"I sensed a faint trace of creation divinity and came to check. A human with Creation Talent? I still can't wrap my head around it."
Asrie grumbled, eyeing Jihun.
"I... have talent?"
Jihun couldn't process her words. Hadn't he always been utterly talentless, a complete dullard? Yet here she was saying he had a talent even gods struggled to attain. None of it felt real.
"But that can't be right. I have no talent. In studies, sports, games, drawing—nothing. Even when I put in double the effort of others, I always lagged far behind. There must be some mistake."
Jihun denied it outright. After years of grueling effort and bitter failures, he'd felt his own limitations to his bones. His words dripped with self-mockery.
Asrie's eyes curved slightly as she watched him, a cute smile like one reserved for a foolish child. Embarrassingly, Jihun's heart skipped a beat at that gentle gaze.
"It's the opposite," she said. "It's not that you lack talent and somehow gained Creation Talent. You have Creation Talent, that's why you lack all others."
"Because I have Creation Talent... I lack everything else?"
Jihun couldn't follow.
Asrie explained patiently. "Humans have a finite capacity for talent. Yours is filled to the brim with Creation Talent—the one every god covets—which means no room for anything else."
Jihun's eyes widened. Memories flooded his mind: all the times he'd doubled his efforts yet fallen short. Effort, failure, disappointment, sorrow, then effort again... That had been his life. No talent, no brains—just dogged persistence. Even without results, he'd pushed on. But the stress of always trailing behind despite the extra work? Crushing. He'd endured it in every field for nineteen years.
Now he understood why.
"Creation Talent... cost me everything else."
It was absurd. He'd lived deprived of all talents because of this one useless one?
"Exactly. You gained the rarest gift—harder for gods to claim—only to forfeit every common one. Ironic, isn't it?"
Asrie said it indifferently.
Jihun clenched his fists. The source of his lifelong suffering? This one worthless talent! Rage ignited inside him, a flame devouring him from within. His gripped hands trembled.
"If you want, I can remove your talent."
Asrie said suddenly.
"Creation Talent is precious. Every god yearns for it; every transcendent being prays for it at birth. But talents are easy to discard once gained—especially when a god like me removes it from a human like you."
Asrie rose slowly, her diamond-like eyes fixing on Jihun. Her expression turned solemn, sacred. The frivolous chip-munching girl vanished, replaced by the dignity and charisma befitting a Creator God.
"Abandon it, and you'll gain ordinary mortal talents like everyone else. Do you want me to take it away?"
Jihun met her clear, upright gaze—pure, almost reverent in its beauty. He murmured slowly,
"If I erase Creation Talent... I could have normal talents."
He'd heard her out. The reason for his inferior achievements, unrewarded efforts, lack of talent: an excessive gift unfit for him. Creation Talent—a pearl necklace on a pig. A god's tool, useless to a human like him.
Logically, discard it.
But it didn't sit right.
His lack of talent had forced endless toil, countless failures. Yet he'd never quit. Double the effort for others' natural gifts—triple, quadruple if needed. That was Kim Jihun.
Now, a path opened: minimal effort for average results, the ordinary talent he'd always craved.
But it repulsed him. Like invalidating every desperate struggle.
So Jihun answered, "I won't abandon Creation Talent."
"Care to explain why?"
Asrie gazed at him, a warm, maternal smile blooming—like beholding a cherished creation.
Jihun met her eyes steadily and declared,
"I have no talent. That's why my efforts never matched others'. Studying barely kept me from failing; sports made me a burden to the team; drawing just cluttered everything..."
His gaze grew distant, reliving the past. He continued,
"If I discard this excessive talent, sure, I could live ordinarily like everyone else. No suffering from lack of talent, no low results from it."
Asrie nodded, her white hair swaying softly.
"But if I toss it away and easily gain other talents... it feels like denying every effort I've made. Those struggles where talentless me proved I could—they wouldn't be worthless. I cherish myself because I fought through it all."
Asrie's smile deepened in satisfaction.
"A fine answer."
Even with her praise, Jihun stayed bittersweet, rooted in place. Baring his complex to a stranger was new, and facing his deficiencies again stung.
Asrie watched him and said something cryptic.
"Soon, you'll surpass others in talent. Meeting the Creator God Manual must be the Great Law's guidance, after all."
"Huh?"
Jihun blinked dumbly at the nonsense. Ignoring his confusion, Asrie began fading from her seat.
"Good choice, Kim Jihun."
You won't regret it.
With those final words, she vanished completely from the room.
"Whoa."
Jihun stared blankly at the spot, bewildered. The half-eaten cola and chip crumbs remained.
"She's gone?"
He waved his hand through the air experimentally. Nothing. Asrie had truly left.
"She really left."
He mulled her parting words. Talents richer than others'. Creator God Manual, Creation Talent, and...
'A good choice.'
That conversation—was it a test? To see if he deserved his Creation Talent?
"No clue what's going on."
Exhaustion crashed over him. Yesterday, a weird book. Today, a self-proclaimed Creator God, spilling his insecurities. The whirlwind left him mentally drained.
"Gonna sleep."
He ignored the mess of snacks and drinks on the floor, climbed into bed, pulled up the covers, and shut his eyes.
So tired. Sleep first, think later.
Jihun drifted off quickly.
-Hummm.
As he slept, the book on his desk began glowing with bright golden light. Simultaneously, a thread of golden light rose from the pages. It slowly approached the sleeping Jihun on the bed, linking his head to the book. They began resonating.
-Hummm.
Jihun's body gradually lit up golden, syncing with the book.