Power of Creation (2)
Galaxy. A celestial body formed by stars, star clusters, interstellar matter, dark matter, and more, bound together by gravity. If the distance light travels in a vacuum over one year is called one light-year, a typical galaxy spans hundreds of thousands of light-years.
Don't panic too much, Naiserria. I just tried making a galaxy, that's all.
Yes... Is that truly a galaxy?! But...
...It is a galaxy.
Yeah, just barely something measurable at the speed of light. To an Outer God's eyes, it's no bigger than the tip of a fingernail—or dust.
But a world that vast... I've never seen anything like it!
But the galaxy I'd just created was different. It surpassed a mere group of galaxies—fewer than fifty galaxies clustered together—and even eclipsed the scale of a galaxy cluster, where hundreds or thousands gather. What I'd made was something comparable to a supercluster, where multiple galaxy clusters converge.
Trembling intent flowed from Naiserria.
...May I ask the purpose behind creating such a world, O Great One?
Do you know about the aberrations that mortals call monsters?
Yes. You mean those who surrender to their instincts and crave life itself.
They appear in that dimension, and they intrigue me. I wanted to test them in the world I created too.
It was basically just for fun... but I knew full well that even I couldn't whip something like that up easily. And from Naiserria's perspective, it was astonishing. Better to slap on a rough explanation. It wasn't entirely wrong anyway.
Ah, I think I understand why the Great One finds them intriguing. The mysteries of that greater universe are unknown to me... Sometimes, they rise from the very bottom to the rank of planet god.
Godhood?!
Yes. I once took an interest in those that ascend to godhood through the extremes of desire. Though they never came close to rivaling me.
Monsters could ascend to godhood too? At the planet god level, that'd make them a planet spirit. Not on Naiserria's level as a galaxy goddess, but still a deity fully dominating a single planet. Born not as planet-devouring monsters, but as lower-tier aberrations capable of reaching godhood. Pretty intriguing. And fun. I wanted to investigate. Observe. See how far they could go. My interest was piqued. Should I release some into the galaxy I'd just made?
...O Great One. If there's any question I can answer...
I halted my thoughts at Naiserria's words. Nothing specific I wanted to ask her. The fun was in discovering it myself. Way more entertaining to dive in blind than spoil it with a walkthrough. Alright then. Time to try creating lifeforms again? The galaxy's specs were set, so I'd infuse power below that scale. This time, I could make proper life.
As I began practicing lifeform creation, one thought struck me. Couldn't I create a civilization like the Super Galactic Empire Federation in this dimension too? Or generate laws like the avatar contracts? To avoid destroying everything. Staying idle had its limits. I wanted to move. Act. Only by doing something could I escape this boredom. Influencing the other dimension through avatars wasn't enough. I craved action here too.
Fine-tuning Cosmic Power for creation was decently enjoyable. And I wanted to see a mortal cluster like the federation emerge.
I cautiously channeled power into my right hand. A world the size of a fingernail pulsed, asserting its presence. Whoooosh—a cosmic wail, heard yet unheard in the void. The sound of my Cosmic Power warping and twisting reality. I calibrated the power to match the fingernail-sized galaxy hovering in my palm. The lifeforms to come would inhabit its interior. Adjust size, infuse power.
First lifeform born.
The first lifeform was a formless giant. A bizarre entity blending star-system-spanning size with cosmic slime. But it starved to death soon after.
I learned that mortals, unlike gods, couldn't sustain beyond a certain size. Mortals. Size control. Durability. Internal organs.
Second lifeform born.
The second was a planet-sized rock lifeform. Resembling a planet-devourer, it devoured everything around to survive. No real intelligence—just instinctual planetary predation. It consumed dozens of planets before lunging at a star and burning up.
I realized mortals needed intellect and sensory organs. Not human-level, but enough for group living and threat detection. Cognition. Intelligence. Hazard sensing.
Third lifeform born.
The third was a continent-sized quadruped. Elephant-like, with eyes, ears, mouth, and transcendent senses via a long trunk. It burrowed into rocky planets to feed. But its superdeveloped senses partially perceived me, and it died.
Hmm...
Last time too, a planet-devourer that sensed me had perished. It crawled across my palm back then. No life had felt my "gaze" since. I'd assumed only planet gods or higher could detect my heavily dampened viewpoint. Note to self: account for this going forward. Or lower my viewpoint further. Overdeveloped senses caused issues.
Countless failures followed. What I realized after endless trials was simple. Oversized lifeforms starved from energy shortages. But human-sized ones...
Squeeeeel!! ...mutated and died. Body mutation? Unknown forces turned them into tentacle horrors or burst them apart. More failures revealed the truth.
This galaxy I'd made... was infused with Cosmic Power, bloated and mutating. A brutally harsh environment for life. Forged from Outer God fragments far deadlier than cosmic radiation—no helping it. Every planet, star, chunk of land bore traces of my essence. Maybe because I created life instantly, without gradual adaptation. Or differences between inanimate recipients and living ones absorbing Cosmic Power. Or flaws in my method—still unclear.
Small lifeforms couldn't withstand the power and mutated. Large ones couldn't thrive or died from energy lack. Picking another galaxy felt like admitting defeat. Pride wouldn't allow it. This, my first creation—a massively vast galaxy. I wanted life to flourish here.
How? Need a method for intelligent, human-like species to prosper in that harshness.
I paused practice and turned my gaze to the other dimension. I'd find a breakthrough for life creation slowly. For now, check on the avatars.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
"Alarms keep coming?! Beatrix, you okay?"
"If you turn off your terminal like me, you're fine-wa yo! Don't take useless calls, Yuna!"
"No way! But why are you still so formal?!"
"Formal? What do you mean-wa yo?! And since we're at it, as incarnations of a galaxy spirit, puff out your chest and..."
The avatars in that dimension were in chaos. Bizarre they were together despite different planets, but freaking out no less. The TV blasting federation public broadcast was even wilder.
Announcements classifying me as a galaxy spirit. Official recognition of Silent Starlight's contracts with leaders. Constellation statements and political reactions swirled in a chaotic mess.
Constellation Whispering Star Cluster tells its avatars to calm down.
"Constellation?"
"Lord! You've come-wa yo?"
Maybe because I'd just made something galaxy-like, this doll play felt a bit dull. Had the other dimension's Outer God endured this ennui? If only I had a clue for birthing lifeforms. I needed info on life resilient to Cosmic Power—specifically, my fragments. Conditions for beings with resistance to this power. Ask the avatars? Nah. Yuna was ex-civilian, Beatrix just planetary elite. A renowned researcher might help, but they wouldn't.
Ding-dong!
"Haa... Who now?"
"If the guards let them through, it's gotta be government-wa yo?!"
Right on cue. A genius transcending species limits.