With Genesis-01's evolution now running on its own track, Jaxon opens the temporal controls for its local star system. A slider appears, marked with multipliers from 1x to 1,000,000x. He drags it, not all the way, but far enough that years on Genesis-01 will pass in mere seconds of his time. A small, persistent window opens in the corner of his view, a live feed of the planet's surface. He watches as the single-celled organisms in the deep-sea vents mutate, diversify, and begin their slow, inexorable crawl across the ocean floor. It is a biological clock, now ticking at a furious pace.
He zooms his perspective out, leaving the G-type star of Genesis-01 behind. The pinprick of light shrinks, joining the countless others in the swirling nebula he first created. He is a god in search of a new heaven to build. He pans across the void, his consciousness a ghost gliding through the cosmos. He passes nascent star systems, clouds of incandescent gas coalescing around gravitational centers. He dismisses them. Too young, too unstable.
Then he finds it. Another G-type star, steady and mature, with a full complement of planets. One in particular catches his attention. It is a super-Earth, a terrestrial world nearly twice the size of his first creation. A deep, angry red, choked by a runaway greenhouse atmosphere of carbon dioxide and sulfur. Its surface is a hellscape of volcanic plains and molten rivers. No water. No life. Just raw, primordial mass.
Perfect. A true blank slate.
He designates the planet 'Aethelgard'. He brings up the WORLD CONTROLS, the tools glowing with potential. He could search for another water-world, another perfect jewel like Genesis-01, but the challenge of transformation calls to him. He wants to build this one from the ground up, to mold its very essence.
First, the atmosphere. He targets the thick, toxic blanket of gas. A new tool appears in his interface: 'Atmospheric Siphon'. He applies it, and from his cosmic vantage point, he sees the dense red haze begin to thin, pulled away into the void by an invisible force. He replaces it slowly, injecting a precise mixture of nitrogen and oxygen, building a breathable sky layer by layer.
Next, water. The planet is bone dry. He glances at the system's outer edge. A belt of ice-caked asteroids and comets tumbles in the darkness. He opens the gravity controls, a delicate and powerful tool. He reaches out with invisible fingers, nudging one icy giant from its orbit. Then another. He creates a cosmic delivery system. The first comets streak through Aethelgard's new atmosphere, burning bright as fallen stars. They impact the surface with titanic force, the superheated steam billowing into the sky to form the first clouds. He orchestrates a deluge that lasts for millennia in the planet's accelerated time, a bombardment of ice and rock that carves oceans and fills basins.
The planet transforms from a red cinder into a blue and brown marble. But it is still too uniform. Too bland. He uses the geological sculpting tools, his will pushing and pulling the tectonic plates. He raises a colossal mountain range, its peaks so high they scrape the edge of space, their jagged silhouettes a scar against the horizon. He carves a canyon so deep that the bottom knows no sunlight. He shapes continents, not with the random drift of nature, but with deliberate intent, creating landscapes designed to channel and focus power.
Now, for the soul. The Essence Conduit system. On Genesis-01, he followed the natural lines of the planet. On Aethelgard, he will impose his own design. He opens the design panel, the holographic image of his new world ready for his pen. He will not create a simple web. He will create a hierarchy. A circulatory system with arteries, veins, and capillaries.
He sketches a single, massive line that encircles the entire planet at its equator. The 'World Line'. This will be the main artery, drawing in immense volumes of blended Essence from the cosmos. From this great line, he traces enormous continental conduits, 'Dragon Lines', that follow the spines of his custom-made mountain ranges and plunge into the depths of his abyssal trenches. These are the primary distributors. Branching from them are thousands of smaller 'Meridian Lines', the veins that will carry Essence to every corner of the world.
As he works, a thought strikes him. The planetary ranks are too broad. A Silver-tier world is a huge leap from an Iron-tier one. What about the quality of the conduits themselves? A powerful world needs powerful leylines. He needs a way to classify the individual channels.
He opens the SYSTEM CLASSIFICATION module again. Under the 'Environments' tab, he creates a new subsection: 'Essence Conduits'. He starts, as always, with the base rank. Copper. But he refines it. He creates a sub-ranking.
[CONDUIT RANK: LOW COPPER]
[DESCRIPTION: A faint, intermittent trickle of Essence. Barely detectable. Quantity and purity are minimal. Equivalent to a natural spring in a low-energy world.]
[CONDUIT RANK: MID COPPER]
[DESCRIPTION: A stable, continuous, but weak flow of Essence. Sufficient to sustain minor enchanted flora or fauna.]
[CONDUIT RANK: HIGH COPPER]
[DESCRIPTION: A robust and consistent channel of Essence. Can be utilized for basic cultivation or spellcraft. Natural resources found nearby may possess minor metaphysical properties.]
[CONDUIT RANK: SUPREME COPPER]
[DESCRIPTION: A powerful local conduit, often formed by the confluence of several High Copper lines. Creates a small area of notable energy density. A nexus capable of supporting early-stage sects or magical enclaves.]
The logic solidifies in his mind. The pattern will repeat for Bronze, Iron, Silver, and all the ranks beyond. Each tier represents a monumental leap in the quantity and purity of the energy flowing through the channel. He looks back at his design for Aethelgard. He begins to apply his new system. The thousands of tiny Meridian Lines he sketched, the capillaries of his world, he designates as Mid-Copper. Where they intersect in valleys or deep forests, he creates nodes, grading them as High-Copper. The great Dragon Lines are another matter entirely. They are far beyond Copper. But this new, granular system gives him the language to define them, to build a world not just of power, but of measured, quantifiable, and perfectly engineered power.
Jaxon gazes upon Aethelgard, a world of his own making, now swirling with oceans and a clean, breathable atmosphere. The raw, physical construction is complete. The intricate network of Dragon Lines and Meridian Lines pulses beneath the crust, a sleeping giant awaiting a purpose. This world will not be like Genesis-01, a cradle for diverse, natural life. This world is an engine, designed for a singular goal: cultivation. A place where mortals can grasp for the heavens.
He opens the LIFE FORGE. The familiar blueprint for Extremo-Chemoautotroph-001 loads into the workspace. It is a robust, simple design that thrives on sulfur and heat. An excellent starting point. He duplicates the blueprint and enters the Blueprint Assembly, the molecular code unfurling before him like a celestial scroll.
He leaves the core functions intact—the cellular wall, the rudimentary nucleus, the chemo-synthetic processes. Then he begins to add. He weaves in a new organelle the 'Spirit Root', a delicate, crystalline structure designed to passively absorb the ambient Heaven and Earth Energy flowing from the planet's Mid-Copper conduits. He links this to a second, more complex addition: a biological furnace he names the 'Qi Core'. This organelle will take the raw, chaotic energy absorbed by the crystals and refine it, compressing it into a stable, potent internal energy. Qi.
The System flags the changes. The organism's complexity rating jumps. Its 'Life Level' shifts from a simple prokaryote to something just beyond. A warning flashes on the screen, noting that the energy required for cellular division has increased tenfold. This new life will be fragile. Its reproduction will be slow, a struggle against entropy.
Perfect. Struggle builds strength.
He names the new species Cultivatus-Primordia-001.
Before deploying his new creation, he navigates back to the planet's surface view. He selects a deep-sea hydrothermal vent field, a black smoker chimney belching superheated, mineral-rich water into the crushing darkness of the abyssal plain. Here, he seeds a colony of the original Extremo-Chemoautotroph-001. They will be his control group. He wants to know if life, left to its own devices in an energy-rich world, will evolve to use that energy on its own.
Then, in a separate but nearby vent field, he releases Cultivatus-Primordia-001.
He pushes his perspective down, past leagues of black water, until he is a ghost observing the microscopic drama unfolding on the volcanic rock. The original cells begin to divide almost immediately, their simple processes efficient and rapid. They form a slick, growing film over the rock.
The Cultivatus cell is different. It remains inert for a long moment. He can perceive the crystalline organelle within it, faintly glowing as it draws in infinitesimal motes of Heaven and Earth Energy. The Qi Core inside sputters, ignites, and then begins a slow, steady burn. The cell shudders. It stretches, elongating as it prepares to divide. The process is a visible effort, a slow, laborious separation that takes ten times longer than its simpler cousin. But it succeeds. One cell becomes two.
Jaxon pulls his view back, leaving the microscopic genesis behind. He finds the temporal slider for Aethelgard and pushes it forward. Not as fast as Genesis-01, but fast enough. Millennia flicker by. He watches the live feed windows for both planets. Genesis-01 is a riot of biological creativity, its oceans teeming with diversifying life.
Aethelgard is a slower, more focused story. The colonies of Extremo organisms spread across the ocean floors, a vast, unthinking carpet of basic life. The Cultivatus colonies expand at a glacial pace. They are small islands in a sea of their more primitive relatives. But where they grow, the planet's energy flows differently. The ambient Heaven and Earth Energy is drawn into them, creating subtle vortices in the planet's power grid.
He watches for what feels like an age. He sees the colonies compete for resources. He sees mutations rise and fall. Then, in one of the isolated Cultivatus colonies, something new happens. A group of cells divides, but they do not separate. They stick together, forming a chain. The chain folds, becoming a clump. Within the clump, cells begin to change. Some on the outside develop a thicker membrane for protection. Those on the inside focus solely on processing Qi, sharing the refined energy with the outer layer.
It is specialization. The first, vital step toward something more.
The clump grows, becoming a gelatinous, worm-like creature no bigger than his thumb. It detaches from the volcanic rock, drifting freely in the abyssal current. A faint, internal light pulses from its core, the combined Qi of its thousands of cells. It is the first true animal of Aethelgard.
A sharp, clean chime cuts through his focus. A panel flashes into existence before him, displaying an image of the new creature.
[NEW SPECIES OF COMPLEX MULTICELLULAR LIFE DETECTED: WORM OF QI]
[THIS ORGANISM SHOWCASES UNIQUE BIOLOGICAL TRAITS DERIVED FROM DIRECT ESSENCE MANIPULATION. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CREATE A MASTER BLUEPRINT OF THIS CREATURE?]
Jaxon taps the prompt. The System chimes its acceptance, and the blueprint for the Worm of Qi resolves into view, a complex diagram of interconnected cells and nascent organ systems. He ignores the basic anatomy, his eyes drawn to the list of Biological Traits. Most are expected: Chemotrophic, Multicellular, Basic Mobility. But one, flagged with a golden star icon, makes his breath catch.
[EMERGENT TRAIT: Environmental Bio-Refinement]
[DESCRIPTION: This organism actively draws raw Heaven and Earth Energy from its environment, processes it through a specialized organ system (the Proto-Qi Core), and excretes a purified, stable form of Qi as a metabolic byproduct. This process enriches the immediate vicinity with usable energy, promoting further growth and cultivation potential.]
He leans closer, his reflection a ghost on the dark interface. It's not just using the energy for itself; it's a living filter. An engine. He zooms in on the process, requesting a micro-level analysis. The System obliges, rendering a detailed animation of the worm's internal functions.
He sees the crystalline Spirit Root structures, now embedded along the creature's entire outer membrane, acting like antennae. They don't just absorb energy; they vibrate at a specific frequency, attracting the chaotic, untamed Heaven and Earth Energy from the surrounding water. The raw power flows inward, a torrent of static and potential, into the central cavity that serves as the worm's Qi Core.
Here, the real magic happens. The Core is not a single chamber but a sequence of them. In the first, the energy is subjected to a powerful bio-electric field, causing it to spin like a centrifuge. The densest, most volatile motes of energy are flung against the chamber walls and rendered inert, expelled as simple heat. The partially cleansed energy flows into a second chamber, one lined with cells that secrete a unique protein. This protein bonds to the remaining chaotic signatures, neutralizing them and stripping the energy down to its purest state.
The final stage is compression. The purified energy is forced into a small, muscularly dense sac where it is stabilized into what the System identifies as Qi. Most of this refined fuel is absorbed directly by the worm's cells for metabolism and growth. But the process is inefficient, a biological first draft. The compression sac constantly overflows. This excess, this purified byproduct, is shunted to a tiny excretory pore at the worm's tail and released in a shimmering, almost invisible pulse.
Jaxon watches, captivated. These worms are not just life; they are terraforming engines on a microscopic scale. Each one is a tiny, living nexus, turning a chaotic environment into a cradle for cultivation. An entire colony could change the energy signature of a deep-sea trench. A world full of such creatures…
But worms are inefficient. They move. They die. He needs something more permanent. Something stationary and widespread.
He glances at the barren, volcanic continents of Aethelgard, still cooling under their new atmosphere. Plants. He needs plants. A forest of trees, each one a massive bio-refinery, its roots drawing up raw energy, its leaves breathing out pure Qi. The entire planet could become a self-regulating sanctuary of power.
He sets a new alert in the Aethelgard control panel, a simple trigger. 'Notify upon detection of terrestrial, photosynthetic life.' He can wait. Aethelgard is a project of patience and precision.
With a thought, he dismisses the Aethelgard window and expands the live feed from Genesis-01.
The difference is a physical shock.
Where Aethelgard is a quiet, slow-burning ember, Genesis-01 is a bonfire. The planet, left to its own accelerated, chaotic devices, has exploded with life. He sends his perspective plunging through the clouds, down toward a coastline where a shallow sea meets a vast continent.
The oceans are no longer a simple blue. They are a swirling tapestry of greens, reds, and golds, colored by immense continents of algae and kelp-like forests that sway in the currents. He sees shoals of fish-like creatures, their scales catching the light in iridescent flashes of energy. Great, multi-limbed predators hunt in the deep, their forms hinting at the blended Mana and Aura that permeates their world. The water itself thrums with life.
His view sweeps over the land. The first plants have not just arrived; they have conquered. Great, humid jungles of towering fern-like flora stretch for miles, their fronds a deep, vibrant emerald laced with veins that pulse with a faint cerulean light—a clear sign of Mana saturation. The air is thick with the scent of wet earth and strange, alien pollen.
He pushes his focus down, to the muddy bank of a wide, sluggish river. Something is moving. A creature, about the size of a large dog, hauls itself from the water. Its skin is a slick, mottled green, but its six limbs move with a powerful, deliberate motion. A ridged, bony carapace covers its back, shimmering with a faint, protective energy field that deflects the water droplets. It stops at the water's edge, its wide, amphibious head lifting to the sky. A thin membrane flickers over its large, dark eyes. On the side of its neck, a set of feathery external gills convulses, then slowly retracts into slits that seal shut. The creature's barrel chest expands, taking its first true breath of air.
Jaxon watches, a silent observer to a pivotal moment. This is the first step. The first bridge between the two worlds of sea and land. He can see the path stretching out from this single creature. He sees the potential encoded in its DNA, a blueprint shaped by a world of balanced Essence. This world will not just have dinosaurs. It will have titans. It will have behemoths whose hides are living armor and whose breath can be a torrent of elemental power. It will have magnificent, terrifying beasts born not just from evolution, but from magic. Genesis-01 is the wild, untamed dream, a world that will create its own legends.