Hello, World! (2)

A rectangular window floated right in front of my eyes, just like augmented reality, displaying a search bar. But there was no keyboard, no mouse... What the hell was I supposed to do with this thing? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The cursor was blinking away in the search field, sure, but... it wasn't gonna read my mind and type for me, right? Did it have some kind of brainwave input?

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the words [Brainwave Input Device] appeared in the search bar on their own, pulling up results.

Hmm. No way... Let me try searching for Namu Wiki.

Yep, so that's how it works. Scrolling up and down happens automatically as I shift my gaze around. And thinking "close it!" makes the window vanish... It's actually not half bad. Could be handy for killing time when I'm bored or looking up random knowledge. Though I can only read stuff, of course. For me right now, that's plenty precious on its own.

Once I'd gotten a handle on the second privilege like that, knowledge about the third one came flooding into my head.

The power to control time at will. Speeding up its flow, pausing it, even rewinding to the past.

The way to use it? Manifesting a tiny pocket watch.

This delicate little thing, connected by a thin chain, showed not just the current time but the year, month, and day too. Right now, though, everything was zeroed out, with the hour and minute hands frozen at 12. There was also this weird ▶ symbol on it. The bezel had two buttons and a dial you could twist—quite the gadget.

Is this how I control time? I cautiously pressed one of the buttons.

Tick.

With the sound of the spring halting, everything stopped. The gentle breeze ceased blowing. The dust kicked up by footsteps hung motionless in the air. Nothing moved. Time itself had frozen solid. The watch now showed a II instead of the ▶.

I pressed the button again, and time resumed its flow.

Impressive. So that's the trick. But slipping a blatantly overpowered ability like time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stop into the perks? What was that god even thinking? Not like I'd ever figure it out, no matter how long I pondered. Probably couldn't grasp it in a lifetime.

Shoving aside the zero-productivity exercise of musing on that god, I kept experimenting with the watch. I gingerly twisted the dial on top.

If I'm right... The air's flow accelerated wildly. The sun overhead started racing across the sky at a visible speed. The ▶ on the watch had become ▶▶.

Twist it more, and it went to ▶▶▶, then ▶×4. Keep going, and the number climbed while the sun dipped low, the moon rose. In a blink, the moon set and the sun rose again. Subjectively just seconds passed, but a day had gone by—then two.

I gripped the dial, wished for normal flow, and twisted back the other way. Back to ▶. Nice, easier than expected. Just think of the speed you want while turning it, and it adjusts perfectly.

I twisted for slower time, and it showed ▶×0.1. Slow it to the extreme, and it's barely different from a full stop... but irrelevant for me now anyway.

Speed it up again—sun rises and sets in loops. Days fly by. The watch's hands spin frantically to match. Each cycle ticks the date up by one. Days keep flipping, but I feel no change. Not even the hunger any creature should sense.

I let out a small sigh and reset to normal. Looks like I've stepped outside the realm of biology. What with creating everything, linking to other worlds, toying with time... Calling this "living" would be a stretch.

Another sigh, then I pressed the untested button. Click. The glass cover flipped open.

So... what now? On a hunch that it needed rewinding, I carefully turned the second ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and minute hands backward a few rotations, resetting the date to zero, then snapped it shut. A small window popped up.

Consent from the past self? Ah, so this is the restriction the god mentioned? Can't rewind unless past-me agrees, huh. Hm.

I tapped Y with my fingertip. The pocket watch started spinning backward. Time rewinding? Sun and moon looped in reverse. Soon, the date hit zero again.

The third perk's pretty intuitive—easy to get. And ridiculously strong. Might be fun yelling "The World!" for time stop.

Hmm. I dismissed the watch—it vanished—summoned it anew, and rewound again. Since it's a power bound to me, it disappears when let go but pops back anytime.

Alright, now the big one: the first perk, creation. Time to test making anything I desire. The power to fill this lifeless world—minus a few plants—with new life.

What to create first? Humans? No way, not without a food chain. Humans sit at the top; without prey below, they'd starve. Start from basics?

But it's daunting. Or... mass-produce primitive single-celled critters and let them evolve naturally? Would take ages, but with time control, no biggie. Downside: no guarantee it'll evolve how I want.

Wait, no—add evolution directionality at creation. Like, crank up mutation frequency and rate. Biology's not my forte, but flood the world with tweaked single-cells, fast-forward time... They'll evolve and thrive, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right? Sure, weirdos might pop up, but I can tweak as needed.

Hand-crafting everything? Eons. This way's better. If it goes wrong, handle it myself. Hey, I'm a dragon—should manage.

Oh yeah, dragon means magic too, right? Gotta think mana. Can I create mana itself? Or mana-infused stuff? Either way, doable. This power's truly omnipotent.

I stretched lightly, stood, and activated creation. A translucent window appeared, letting detailed settings for whatever I wanted to make.

Let's see... First, creature. As simple as possible. High life force, great environmental adaptation. Lifespan... say, 1 year. Keeping it basic, single-cell reference. Tough enough that even split in two, both halves live. Food... hmm, photosynthesis? Nah. Needs predation, consumption. Might eat each other, but first try. Maybe nibble those abundant leaves too. Boost mutation probability and frequency... Genetic variation? Whatever, add it! Well-adapted survive, others die. Natural selection.

God really is a dick, leaving plants but no animals. Sigh. Oh, bacteria or viruses? Did god make 'em already? Dunno. If issues, rewind and redo.

And just like that, I created the common ancestor of all life.