The Universe's First Elves
I'd just finished designing the elves down to the last detail and was about to head back to the universe when two problems popped into my head.
The first was that the moment I crossed back over, the torn dimensional rift I'd come through would get detected. The Galactic Union would eventually figure out that something had slipped in. I could solve the issue with my body by converting it into an energy form similar to cosmic background radiation, but there was no hiding the split in space itself.
Eh, not a huge deal, really. I could just paralyze the Union's detection gear for that split second. And if they did spot it, I could wipe the memories of anyone involved and erase the transmission logs. Honestly, even if they detected me, I could just warp off to some distant corner—what could they do about it? Still, no point inviting future headaches, so I'd jam their sensors the instant I ripped through space. Not hard at all. Kinda weird I didn't think of it before... Lazy, I guess.
Anyway, problem two: What to do with Yujin.
Right now, Yujin was being run by the backup personality I'd set up. It was basically a clone of my own mind, but there'd still be a difference between me directly piloting the body and letting the backup take the wheel. Even as a split-off personality from me, it was ultimately an independent entity. Plus, changes caused by a clone I created didn't seem to factor into my foreknowledge. I could hop into the timeless rift and peek at the universe's future if I wanted... but I was knee-deep in this drama right now. No more spoilers.
Yeah, I was basically watching Yujin's life like a TV show. Might as well treat him as a fully independent creation, separate from my clones. I'd solidify that backup personality as the real 'Yujin.' Then I wouldn't know how his ties to the Galactic Union would play out in ten years—or what impact he'd have on this universe down the line. But wouldn't that be more fun?
Time flows without a set path or endpoint—that's what makes it interesting. If it was all barreling toward a predetermined finish line, what could be more boring? I actually like that even Outer Gods like me can't predict everything, that there are unknowns. In this eternal, immortal existence that's impossible to even imagine... the fact that my interventions keep sparking intriguing events is what keeps it going.
This race and civilization creation is the same. How they'll reshape the future. What form they'll grow into, what role they'll carve out in the universe. No way for me to know. I'm just whimsically crafting a species called elves and scattering them in my garden. How tall they'll grow, what flowers and fruits they'll bear—that's something to watch unfold.
...Well, just like how I learned about the Rubaran tribe and their future the moment I was born into this universe, I could probably ask another top-tier Outer God with similar powers. But nah. I'm not some freak who begs for spoilers on a movie or show I'm hyped for.
Anyway, I'd sorted out those two last-minute issues. Time to really head back to the universe where I was born. Not just a quick pit stop like when I wiped out that giant monster—this time, I'd be sticking around a while. At least until my elves got fully on track. Gotta be there to troubleshoot any hiccups, right?
As I crossed into the universe, I cloaked myself from the Galactic Union's eyes. No reaction from their side. Perfect—now to zip over to a nearby supernova.
Somewhere without big civilizations nearby would be ideal. Can't have them getting gobbled up before they even grow. Let's see... Oh, G Sector has a nice spot. Recent supernova explosion, stars just starting to form. Massive clouds of debris from the blast clumping together into new stars and planets. If a whole star system popped up here suddenly, the Union wouldn't bat an eye.
G Sector of the universe. No galactic ID number even. Meaning it's not under Union control. Out of their reach, so they barely monitor or scan it. Perfect cover to whip up a full star system in ten seconds flat behind the supernova's shadow.
Sure, a star system appearing out of nowhere on an empty galaxy might raise eyebrows, but with the supernova blasting away and stars forming right now, it'd blend right in. Hide a tree in the forest, a person in the crowd, right? So make stars where stars are already popping up everywhere—that's prime camouflage.
If the Union ever sends scouts to develop this galaxy and check for intelligent life, our elves should be plenty grown by then. Worst case, I could hide them from detection. For now, warp.
Mmm, the supernova's effects are hitting me physically. My energy body assimilates perfectly with ambient energies, so I feel my power surging. Haha, keep this up and I'll birth a star inside myself. But in a space swirling with this insane energy, how do I even make a habitable environment...?
Simple: I'll reshape the cosmic setup to match.
Won't that leave a void in the neutrinos and light from the supernova, tipping them off? Nah. This galaxy's beyond their influence—they won't glance this way until the supernova's effects fade. And if they do spot it, I'll cover my tracks slyly. Gotta give the civilization time to develop.
...Yeah, it's pretty cheaty. But unavoidable. Think about it: In a civilization-builder game, what game sends a fleet to wipe you out the second it detects something off? That'd tank on launch. Events like that only hit after your civ can handle them.
So me blocking and shielding them? Call it a newbie protection period from the goddess's blessing. Goddess? More like Outer God's blessing. Whatever—enough chit-chat. Time to build the star system.
Central main-sequence star a bit bigger than Sol. Surround it with planets loaded with minerals—enough for Dyson spheres around gas giants. Finally, drop a proper Goldilocks world for my elves. Size it a tad bigger than Earth—surface area roughly double. Bigger's better. And for future space age terraforming, toss in one straddling the Goldilocks zone...
Okay, done. Nice—bigger star in the Goldilocks sweet spot, scaled-up system to match. Feels solid, no lore breaks with universal laws.
Now skip all the primitive Earth processes: Set perfect temps, liquid oceans and freshwater, balanced landmasses... Done. Birth, evolution, extinctions—all skipped.
Could be fun watching a mini-ecosystem in a terrarium... but over billions of years? Pass. Speed up planetary time for natural evolution? No guarantee of elves. Best to craft them fast. I want to build civilizations, not cells or spores.
Skip ahead, tailor forests with ideal climates for elves everywhere. And now... the grand finale: Creating the elves.
So... how? Normally, intelligent life evolves over eons in key spots, smartest and most adaptable surviving to dominate. But without that?
Seed elves in every promising spot: Big rivers, fertile soil, overflowing resources. Built it all primed for life, so tons of hotspots. This many? Could birth ten major civs, not just four.
Time to sculpt the elves. Looks-wise, classic elf: Blondes, silvers, all stunning men and women... And the most important part: pointy ears! Floppy, perky, blushing with emotions—adorable way to read their feelings. Yeah, gotta have those for true elves.
I nodded in satisfaction at the sight of the first male and female elves I'd ever created.