Astraea turned slowly.
Blue oceans. White clouds. A thin, soft edge of atmosphere glowing against the black like a fragile promise.
Kang Seojun stared at it in silence—his first real planet—spinning around the newborn star SOL-10A as if it had always belonged there.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
Because beauty was easy.
Stability was not.
A panel hovered beside the planet like a calm predator.
UNIVERSE 10 — PLANET 0001: ASTRAEA
STATUS: INITIALIZATION COMPLETE
OBSERVER MODE: ACTIVE
NON-INTERFERENCE: LOCKED
Seojun's awareness tightened at that last line.
"So I can build," he muttered, "but I can't… fix."
The void didn't answer.
The System chimed once, like a reminder.
[NEXT STEP AVAILABLE]
Populate the planet with life.
A second window unfolded, clean and cold like a developer console.
[LIFE SEEDING MENU]
Starter Packages Available:
Oceanic Starter (Recommended)
Microbial Starter
Fungal Starter
Null — Natural Emergence Only
Seojun hovered on the first option.
Oceanic Starter.
It felt almost insulting—like the universe was offering him a DLC.
"…Alright," he whispered. "Let's do it properly."
He selected it.
A warning flashed instantly.
[NOTICE]
Life will evolve based on planetary conditions and aether distribution.
Non-interference remains active.
Evolution outcomes cannot be guaranteed.
Seojun stared at the line until it stopped looking like text and started looking like a threat.
Then he pressed [CONFIRM].
[DING.]
On Astraea's surface, storms were still forming.
The planet wasn't a peaceful blue marble yet—it was a living furnace learning how to cool.
Vast volcanic lines glowed orange across the crust like fresh scars. The sky boiled with thick clouds. Rain fell in sheets, hammering the newborn land until rivers and oceans claimed their territory.
Deep underwater, the first cradles of stability formed.
Hydrothermal vents breathed superheated water and minerals into the dark. Pressure. Heat. Chemistry.
Seojun watched from above like a ghost on the edge of a screen.
A tiny blue marker appeared on the planet, indicating a zoom point.
He focused on it.
The view plunged through layers of ocean, past drifting debris and heat shimmer, until the world became microscopic.
A single cell flickered into existence.
Then another.
Then thousands.
A panel popped up like an achievement notification.
[LIFE CONFIRMED]
Organism Class: Proto-cellular
Population: 3,012 → 9,884 → 41,220
Adaptation Rate: NORMAL
Aether Exposure: LOW
Seojun's mind, trained by years of monitoring live servers, latched onto the numbers instantly.
"They're replicating," he murmured.
A tiny organism split in half.
Then split again.
The ocean around it shimmered faintly—like dust made of light.
Seojun noticed it.
"That's… aether?"
Another panel unfolded.
[AETHER FLOW — ASTRAEA]
Ley lines: ACTIVE
Wells: FORMING
Ambient particles: PRESENT
Anomalies: 0
Seojun stared as faint threads of light, invisible on the normal scale, traced along the planet like veins. They converged in points—wells—where the glow was denser.
The organisms near those wells moved differently.
Not smarter.
Just… faster.
A new line appeared in the organism readout.
Mutation Spike Detected.
Seojun's awareness sharpened.
"Magic drives evolution," he said slowly, as if speaking the words made them real.
The System offered no comment.
It only displayed an option.
[TIME DILATION CONSOLE]
Current Flow: 1:1 (Observer Standard)
Available Presets:
— 10 Years / min
— 100 Years / min
— 10,000 Years / min
Custom: [____]
Seojun stared at it as if it were illegal.
"You're telling me…" He swallowed instinctively, forgetting he had no throat. "I can fast-forward a planet?"
[CONFIRMATION]
Time Dilation affects only your observation layer and planetary internal progression.
Observer consciousness remains constant.
Non-interference remains active.
Seojun hesitated.
He remembered the hospital ceiling.
He remembered dying with unfinished worlds in his head.
Time had always been the enemy.
Now the enemy was a tool.
"10,000 years per minute," he said.
His mind hovered over CONFIRM.
Then paused.
"…If I do this," he whispered, "I'm watching an entire history unfold while I… stay the same."
The thought felt heavy.
But his curiosity was heavier.
Seojun pressed CONFIRM.
Astraea accelerated.
Clouds spun faster. Seasons shifted like flipping pages. Oceans cooled, settled, cleared.
The planet transitioned through ages in moments:
Molten orange faded to stone gray.
Stone cracked into continents.
Continents broke into forests.
Forests swallowed the land like green fire.
Seojun watched as life exploded.
Algae bloomed in bright swirls across the oceans. Jellyfish-like creatures drifted through sunlit water. Schools of fish evolved into sharper shapes, stronger fins, mouths built for hunting and survival.
On land, moss crawled across damp rock.
Then ferns.
Then trees.
At first, nothing glowed.
Then Seojun noticed it—
A plant with faint luminous veins.
Aether-infused photosynthesis? Or something stranger?
A system notification appeared beside it.
[AETHER ADAPTATION]
Organism has developed internal aether channels.
Trait: Aether Conduction (Primitive)
Seojun's mind flashed with a thousand game balance concerns.
"If everything evolves magic," he muttered, "the power ceiling is going to be insane."
He watched insects emerge—small, sharp, relentless. Some developed reflective wings that shimmered with a faint blue sheen when they passed near ley lines.
Then larger animals.
Amphibious life crawled from oceans to land in slow determined steps.
A predator rose.
Long jaws. Heavy body. A brute designed by necessity.
The ecosystem trembled under its existence.
The console flashed yellow.
[ECOSYSTEM WARNING]
Apex Predation Rate: HIGH
Biodiversity Risk: MODERATE
Suggested Action: —
Observer Intervention: NOT PERMITTED
Seojun stared at the warning.
A familiar feeling crawled into him—something he knew too well.
The urge to patch.
To tweak the spawn rate. To nerf the predator. To buff prey. To smooth out the curves.
But the option wasn't there.
Only the warning.
And the silent void.
Seojun clenched a hand he didn't have.
"…So I just watch it go wrong?"
The System's response was immediate and merciless.
"OBSERVE DIRECTIVE: DO NOT ENGAGE."
Seojun's awareness shook with frustration.
"Then why give me the ability to create at all?!"
No answer.
Astraea continued.
And nature, indifferent to Seojun's anger, did what nature always did.
Balance fought back.
A sudden climate shift cooled the region where the apex predator hunted. Food became scarce. A storm season arrived early. Floods reshaped rivers. Disease followed density.
The predator population dropped.
The system warning faded from yellow to green.
Seojun exhaled—again, an instinct without lungs.
"…Okay," he said quietly. "Fine. You can stabilize yourself."
His voice grew softer.
"But what happens when something bigger than nature hits you?"
As if the planet heard him, the view shifted.
Aether wells deepened.
Ley lines grew brighter.
And in the sky above a vast plain, something unfamiliar moved.
Not an animal.
Not a plant.
A shape standing upright.
A creature looking at the stars with hands that weren't designed only to kill.
Seojun's awareness locked onto it.
A new notification appeared, far more important than any previous.
[SENTIENCE CANDIDATE DETECTED]
Species Class: Proto-Humanoid
Aether Sensitivity: LOW–MODERATE
Tool Use Potential: HIGH
Population: 37
Seojun stared.
Humanoid.
Not human.
But close enough that his mind filled in the rest.
A tribe.
They huddled in a cave. They used stones. They made simple sounds. They feared the dark.
Then—one night—light appeared.
Not lightning.
Not lava.
A spark.
Aether particles, drawn from a nearby well, gathered at the tip of a stone. A faint blue flicker.
The proto-humanoid holding it jumped back in surprise.
Another reached forward.
A tiny flame bloomed.
The cave lit up in orange warmth.
Their eyes widened in awe.
A sound effect echoed in Seojun's perception like it belonged in a comic panel.
FWOOSH!
Seojun froze.
"…They just invented fire," he whispered.
A second notification layered over the first.
[AETHER EVENT]
Primitive Flame Manifestation
Cause: Aether Spark + Friction + Oxygen Density
Result: Fire Use Initiated
Seojun watched the tribe stare at the flame like it was a god.
And then he felt the first real chill in the void.
Because in that moment, the truth became clear:
They wouldn't just use fire.
They would worship it.
They would weaponize it.
They would fight over it.
And Seojun wouldn't be allowed to stop them.
The System remained calm.
Its voice cut through his thoughts.
"CREATION PHASE COMPLETE."
"CIVILIZATION PHASE: INITIATING."
Seojun swallowed.
His old life had been about building worlds people could play.
This world was building itself.
And he was just watching.
That night, on a cliff overlooking the ocean, one proto-humanoid lifted its hands toward the sky.
It wasn't praying—not exactly.
It was… calling.
As if the stars could hear.
A faint aether ripple spread upward, thin as a thread.
Seojun felt it brush the edge of his awareness.
A tiny signal.
Then—
A harsh red flash erupted across the System interface.
So sudden Seojun's thoughts jolted.
[ALERT!]
EXTERNAL CREATOR LINK DETECTED
INTERFERENCE PULSE: 07
Origin: UNIVERSE 07
Severity: UNKNOWN
The blue UI turned crimson for a heartbeat.
A sound like a siren vibrated through the void.
BZZZT—BZZZT—BZZZT!
Seojun's awareness snapped toward the cosmic map.
Universe nodes filled his view again—01 through 10.
And there—
A red scar stretched across the label:
UNIVERSE 07
Like a wound on the fabric of existence.
Seojun stared, stunned.
"…Another creator."
The alert continued scrolling.
[DIRECTIVE]
OBSERVE ONLY. DO NOT ENGAGE.
Boundary contact is prohibited.
Watchers are monitoring.
Seojun's frustration returned in a wave.
"Of course," he muttered bitterly. "You'll let me make a planet but not answer basic questions."
He leaned closer to the map, instinctively searching like a programmer hunting a bug.
"Universe 07," he whispered. "What are you?"
Astraea spun quietly behind him—alive, growing, unaware that a stranger's shadow had just crossed its sky.
And somewhere beyond the void, behind the red scar, something else watched back.
The System's final line appeared like a cold promise.
[NEXT]
Trace the signal.
Prepare for observation of Creator 07.
Seojun's awareness hovered between Astraea and the scarred universe.
He didn't know what Universe 07 wanted.
But he knew one thing.
This wasn't a single-player creation game.
It never was.
And Astraea had just taken its first breath…
…right as something from another universe noticed it.
End of Chapter 02