A nurse with a practiced, cheerful smile hands his mom, Sarah, a clipboard at the discharge desk of St. Jude's Medical Center. The linoleum floors gleam under the flat fluorescent lights, and the air carries the faint, clean scent of antiseptic. Jaxon leans against the counter, a ghost of a headache throbbing behind his eyes. His real focus is on the panel floating just to the left of his mom's head, where a new tab labeled WORLD CONTROLS pulses with a soft, inviting light.
"Just sign here and here, dear. The doctor's prescriptions have already been sent to your pharmacy. Lots of rest for him, and no staring at screens for at least forty-eight hours." The nurse taps a pen against the paper.
Sarah scribbles her signature, her movements tight with residual worry. She glances at Jaxon, her brow furrowed. "You hear that, Jax? No computer. No phone."
He gives a noncommittal shrug, his attention fixed on the temporal slider in his mind. The digital readout sits at 1.0x. A snail on one end, a sprinter on the other. He can feel the potential humming behind it, a universe waiting for a command.
The ride home is quiet. The familiar streets of Portland slide past the passenger window, a blur of green trees and grey pavement under an overcast sky. Sarah keeps casting worried looks his way, her hands gripping the steering wheel.
"Are you sure you're feeling okay? You're so quiet."
"Just tired." He is not lying. Witnessing the birth of a reality, even a simulated one, is draining.
"We can talk about what happened, you know. When you're ready. A shock like that… it can be traumatic."
He nods, his gaze distant. His focus is entirely internal now. He pushes his intent into the temporal slider, nudging it forward. 10x. 100x. 1,000x. The numbers blur. He cranks it as far as it will go, the sprinter icon glowing with a fierce white light.
The Primordial Void in his mind's eye explodes into motion. What would take millions of years happens in a heartbeat. The stardust, once a uniform, placid field, becomes a roiling sea. Gravity, raw and unsophisticated, begins its work. Tiny grains of matter kiss and cling, forming larger clumps. These clumps attract more, a runaway effect of cosmic accretion. The void is no longer empty; it is a churning cauldron of possibility.
Wisps of matter coalesce into vast, swirling clouds. They spin and flatten, their centers growing dense, hot. He watches, mesmerized, as pressure and heat build in the hearts of these nascent nebulas until they reach a critical point. The first stars ignite. Not one by one, but in a silent, breathtaking cascade of a billion tiny pinpricks of fusion. They flare into existence, bathing his dark canvas in fierce, brilliant light.
The timelapse continues. Generations of stars live and die in the space between one traffic light and the next. Massive blue giants burn hot and fast, their lives ending in supernova explosions that bloom like silent, violent flowers. These cataclysms forge heavier elements in their death throes, carbon, oxygen, iron, and scatter them across the void. The recycled stardust, now enriched, gathers again. New stars form, denser, smaller, yellow and orange. They pull attendant clouds of dust and gas into spinning discs around them.
Galaxies begin to take shape. Spirals of light and dust spin in a majestic, silent dance. Clusters of galaxies drift apart, driven by an expansion he did not program but which seems to be an emergent property of the initial chaotic state. It is beautiful. It is perfect. And it is too simple. The gravity he purchased is a blunt instrument. It works, but it lacks elegance. It is a caricature of the real thing.
He needs to define it. Properly.
While his mom merges onto the I-5, Jaxon navigates to the LAW FORGE. The familiar interface appears, clean and waiting. He does not need his phone this time. The concepts are etched into his memory from countless late-night science documentaries and physics articles.
[LAW NAME: Gravity]
[CORE TENET: Gravity is the manifestation of the curvature of spacetime caused by mass and energy. Matter tells spacetime how to curve; spacetime tells matter how to move.]
He lays out the axioms, translating the principles of general relativity into the System's required format. He defines gravitational constants, the relationship between mass and attraction, the way light bends around massive objects. He is not just copying a textbook; he is weaving the fundamental fabric of his reality. He submits the law.
[LAW OF GRAVITY IMPLEMENTED.]
[MILESTONE ACHIEVED: MASTER OF A DOMAIN]
[You have defined a complex universal law. You have unlocked a new ability: Gravitational Manipulation.]
Another tab materializes under WORLD CONTROLS. This one shows a topographical map of his new universe, a swirling mass of galactic superclusters represented by shifting colors. A suite of new tools appears beside it: sliders for gravitational lensing, buttons to increase or decrease mass concentration, brushes to smooth or sharpen spacetime curvature. He has gone from simply turning gravity on to being able to sculpt it.
His universe is expanding, the galaxies fleeing from each other into the infinite void. It lacks a center. A focal point. An anchor to give it all a grander structure. His gaze settles on a vast, relatively empty patch of space near what he intuitively feels is the center of the cosmic web.
He selects the 'Increase Mass Concentration' tool. He focuses his will on that empty point, cranking the setting to its maximum. The panel glows, accepting the command. In his mind, he sees spacetime warp, a deep, invisible gravity well forming where nothing existed before. It is not a black hole, not a physical object, but a sheer concentration of attractive force—a Great Attractor.
The effect is immediate, though it will take eons to fully play out. He watches the trajectories of the nearest young galaxies shift by infinitesimal fractions of a degree. Their outward rush slows, curves, bends toward the new center of gravity he has just created. They are now caught in a gentle, inexorable tide, their chaotic flight given a new, collective purpose. They are being drawn together.
"Jax? We're home."
His mom's voice cuts through his cosmic reverie. He blinks, the image of a thousand swirling galaxies receding. The car is parked in their driveway. The garage door is rolling up. It is just an ordinary Tuesday.
Jaxon's feet hit the driveway pavement. The mundane scrape of his sneakers on concrete is a strange counterpoint to the cosmic symphony playing out in his head. Before he follows his mom inside, he focuses on the temporal slider. With a thought, he drags it all the way back, past 1.0x, to a crawl so slow it is practically a still image. 0.00001x. The cosmic dance freezes. Galaxies hang suspended in their silent waltz. He cannot leave it running wild while he is not watching.
He trudges up the stairs, the exhaustion of the day settling deep in his bones. He bypasses the kitchen, ignoring the scent of his mom making tea. His room is a sanctuary of familiar clutter: clothes on a chair, programming manuals stacked on his desk, headphones lying next to his keyboard. He does not even bother to change. He just closes the door, the click of the latch shutting out the real world, and collapses onto his bed. The world outside the System vanishes as sleep pulls him under.
He dreams. Not of code or swirling galaxies, but of a world drenched in impossible colour. A forest with luminous, violet trees pulses with a soft inner light. A dragon, scales like polished obsidian, carves a fiery arc across a sky with two moons. He sees figures cloaked in shadow whispering incantations that make the very air crackle, and warriors whose fists glow with a fierce, internal power. It is a dream of raw, untamed magic, of mythical creatures and heroes who shape reality with their will. A world not born from physics and gravity, but from belief and power.
Jaxon wakes up with the sun streaming through his window, the dream's vibrant afterimage burned into his mind. The feeling of it clings to him, a sense of wonder and epic possibility. His own universe, for all its cosmic grandeur, feels sterile by comparison. It has stars and planets, but it has no soul. No magic.
An idea sparks, hot and immediate. It can have one. Laws are not just for physics. A law can be anything.
He sits up, his mind already racing. The System panel materializes before him, responding to his focus. He ignores the WORLD CONTROLS and opens the LAW FORGE.
[NEW LAW DRAFT]
He thinks about the dream, about the different forms of power he witnessed. They were distinct, yet they all felt like they came from the same source, like different expressions of a single, fundamental principle.
[LAW NAME: The Law of Essence]
[CORE TENET: All of existence is permeated by a fundamental, non-physical energy known as Essence. Essence is the source of all supernatural phenomena and can be channeled, manipulated, and refined by living beings and the world itself.]
He begins to lay out the specifics, creating the branches of this new metaphysical tree.
[SUB-PRINCIPLE: Mana. An ambient form of Essence that saturates the environment. It flows like water and pools in areas of natural power. Dense concentrations of Mana can crystallize over eons, forming veins of physical ore that radiate magical energy. This is the energy of wizards and sorcerers, drawn from the world to shape external reality.]
[SUB-PRINCIPLE: Aura. An internal form of Essence, bound to the life force of a living creature. It is the energy of the self, the soul, and the body. It strengthens the physical form, enhances senses, and is the fuel for martial prowess. This is the power of warriors, of internal strength made manifest.]
[SUB-PRINCIPLE: Qi. A harmonious blend of internal Aura and external Mana. It emphasizes balance and flow, circulating through a creature's body along specific pathways. It is the energy of martial artists and monks, a bridge between the self and the world.]
[SUB-PRINCIPLE: Faith. A unique form of Essence generated by collective belief and devotion directed towards a concept, a deity, or an ideal. This energy is granted to champions of that belief, allowing for divine intervention and miracles.]
[SUB-PRINCIPLE: Heaven and Earth Energy. The rawest, most chaotic form of Essence, present in the fundamental makeup of a world. It is the energy of the planet itself—the fire in its core, the life in its soil, the power in its storms. Immense and untamed, it can be absorbed and refined by practitioners of cultivation. Like Mana, it can condense into spiritual herbs, rare metals, and unique geographical formations.]
He rereads the definitions, a thrill running through him. This is not just a rule. It is a foundation for countless stories, for entire civilizations. He commits the law.
[LAW OF ESSENCE IMPLEMENTED.]
[You have defined a complex metaphysical law. MILESTONE ACHIEVED: ARCHITECT OF THE UNSEEN.]
His universe now has a soul. But a soul needs a body to inhabit. A stage needs actors. His gaze shifts on the panel, searching for the next step. A new tab has appeared next to the LAW FORGE, labeled LIFE FORGE. He opens it.
The interface is different. It is less about defining rules and more about creation. A message box greets him.
[LIFE CREATION PROTOCOLS: Select your method of genesis.]
Below, a list of options appears, each with a Genesis Point cost beside it.
[TEMPLATE ACQUISITION: Purchase pre-designed biological templates. Includes basic cellular structure, DNA sequences, and evolutionary pathways. (Costs vary, starting at 100 GP)]
He scrolls through a dizzying list: 'Primordial Microbe Package - 100 GP', 'Aquatic Life Starter Set - 250 GP', 'Basic Mammalian Template - 500 GP'. All far beyond his reach. He currently has zero points.
[ELEMENTAL SEEDING: Purchase a catalyst of complex organic molecules (amino acids, proteins) to seed on a world. Life will evolve naturally according to the world's laws and conditions. (Cost: 50 GP)]
Still too expensive. He keeps scrolling, a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. Then he sees the last two options.
[BLUEPRINT ASSEMBLY: Provide a complete and detailed biological blueprint, from the cellular level to the complete organism. The System will utilize existing elemental matter in your universe to assemble the lifeform according to your specifications. (Cost: 0 GP)]
[MANUAL CREATION: Directly manipulate matter on an atomic level to construct your own organisms from scratch. Warning: Extremely high difficulty. Requires mastery of biology, chemistry, and physics. (Cost: 0 GP)]
Zero points. His breath catches. There it is. A path forward. Blueprint Assembly. It will be an immense amount of work, designing a creature from the ground up. He would need to design its cells, its organs, its metabolism, how it breathes, how it reproduces. But it is possible. And it costs nothing but his own effort.
His mind flashes back to the dream. The obsidian dragon. The glowing trees. He has the raw materials of a universe at his fingertips, and now, he has a way to populate it.
The words float in the holographic space before him. Blueprint Assembly. Cost: 0 GP. Free. A single word that holds an entire universe of possibility and an Everest of work. Designing a lifeform from scratch. He is a programmer, not a biologist. He builds systems with code, with logic gates and functions, not with mitochondria and cell walls. The sheer complexity of a single-celled organism is a mountain he has no idea how to climb.
But he has a tool. A forbidden one, according to the doctor's parting advice.
"Stay off screens for a few days, Jaxon. Give your brain a rest. No phone, no computer. Let your neurons recover."
He scoffs, the sound swallowed by the silence of his room. Rest is the last thing on his mind. He leans over the side of his bed, hand fumbling through the discarded jeans on the floor until his fingers close around the cool, smooth rectangle of his phone. The screen flares to life, a supernova of white light that makes his eyes ache. He squints, thumbing open a web browser.
The search bar blinks, waiting. He types: How did life start on Earth?
He falls into a rabbit hole of scientific theory. Abiogenesis. Primordial soup. Hydrothermal vents on the ocean floor, spewing chemical-rich water into the cold darkness. He reads about the Miller-Urey experiment, where scientists created amino acids, the building blocks of proteins, by zapping a mix of simple chemicals with electricity, mimicking lightning in a young Earth's atmosphere. He learns about the RNA world hypothesis, the idea that a simpler molecule than DNA was the first to carry genetic information.
His fingers fly across the screen, opening tab after tab. He absorbs diagrams of prokaryotic cells, watches animations of lipid molecules forming protective bubbles in water. He is not just reading; he is gathering specs. He is a coder looking for the source code of life itself.
An hour melts away. Armed with a dangerously incomplete, but functional, understanding of biochemistry, he turns his attention back to the System panel. He needs a laboratory. A planet. A cradle.
He closes the LIFE FORGE and navigates to the main menu, selecting WORLD CONTROLS. The view shifts. His bedroom dissolves, replaced by the silent, sprawling majesty of his own cosmos. He floats in the void, a disembodied point of view surrounded by the soft glow of a billion fledgling galaxies. It is overwhelming. He needs to narrow the search. A filter option appears, a simple search bar waiting for his command.
He thinks. Life needs stability. A star that will not burn out in a cosmic heartbeat or flare so violently it scours its planets clean.
Search: G-type main-sequence star.
The view contracts. Galaxies blink out of existence until only a few hundred thousand stars that match the criteria remain, scattered like bright sand. Still too many. He adds another filter, thinking of liquid water.
Filter: Planets within the circumstellar habitable zone.
The field narrows again, dramatically. Now only a few thousand planetary systems are visible. He zooms toward the nearest one, a star almost identical to Earth's sun. The system presents him with an orbital diagram. Eight planets. Two are gas giants in the outer orbits, their atmospheres thick with hydrogen and helium. Three are scorched rocks too close to the star. One is a frozen wasteland on the far edge of the habitable zone.
That leaves two. He focuses on the third planet from the star. The System responds, and his perspective dives, accelerating through the void until the planet swells to fill his view. It is a world of angry red deserts and towering, inactive volcanoes. The data scrolls beside the image: Atmosphere: 95% Carbon Dioxide, 3% Nitrogen. Surface Temperature: 450°C. No magnetic field. A dead world, baked and sterilized by its own parent star.
He dismisses it and shifts his focus to the fourth planet.
His breath catches.
It is beautiful. A marble of deep blue and swirling white, with landmasses of rich brown and dark green. He pushes his perspective closer, skimming over vast oceans that churn with silent energy. He sees continents with rugged mountain ranges that scar the land like wrinkles on an old man's face. A polar ice cap gleams at the southern pole. It feels… right. It feels alive, even in its emptiness.
He pulls up the planetary data, and his pulse quickens.
[PLANET DESIGNATION: Unassigned]
[STAR SYSTEM: C-734]
[CLASS: Terrestrial World (M-Class)]
[DIAMETER: 12,542 km]
[GRAVITY: 0.98 G]
[ROTATIONAL PERIOD: 23 hours, 51 minutes]
[AXIAL TILT: 22.5 degrees]
[ATMOSPHERIC COMPOSITION: 77% Nitrogen, 20% Carbon Dioxide, 2% Methane, Trace Gases]
[SURFACE TEMPERATURE (AVG): 14°C]
[HYDROSPHERE: 72% surface coverage, liquid water. Salinity: 3.4%]
[GEOLOGY: Active tectonic plates. Molten iron-nickel core generating a stable magnetosphere.]
A stable magnetosphere. An axial tilt to create seasons. Tectonic activity to cycle minerals. And oceans of liquid water. It is a perfect canvas. His laboratory.
A prompt from the System appears over the image of the spinning world.
[Assign designation to this celestial body?]
Jaxon thinks for a moment, the names of gods and mythological realms flitting through his mind. He dismisses them all. They are too grand, too presumptuous. This is a beginning. A first step.
He focuses on the prompt, feeding it a simple, functional name.
Designation: Genesis-01.