Elyon floated in silence.

His soul-body drifted through the endless dark, glowing faintly—light without heat, form without mass. There was no wind. No breath. No movement but his own. Yet beside him, something stirred.

The Divine Interface.

Not a screen. Not a machine. More like a presence. A quiet force that hovered beside him—calm, alive, and waiting.

It didn’t need buttons. Didn’t flash commands.

It responded to thought.

To intent.

To him.

[DIVINE INTERFACE]

NAME: [Elyon]

TITLE: Prime Creator

FORM: Soul State

GOD POWER: ∞

GOD SEED: Active

REALM: [Initializing – World Core Unformed]

NOTE: As Prime Creator, the Divine Interface interprets your will. Speak or think with clear intent. Your GOD POWER is unlimited. All creations are powered by it. No manual input required.

SUGGESTION: Begin by shaping the foundation of your realm. Terrain, elements, lifeforms—everything begins with the first act of creation.

The words hovered gently in the void—no sound, no force—just truth laid bare.

But Elyon didn’t need to read it twice.

He understood.

This wasn’t a guide. It wasn’t giving him rules or restrictions. It was listening. It was ready.

Not a tool to control.

A mirror.

It would turn thought into shape. Will into world.

And now… it was waiting.

His eyes drifted downward, though there was no “down” here—just infinite black, quiet and still.

But beneath that silence, he felt something.

Like a heartbeat.

Slow. Faint.

Waiting to rise.

“My world needs a foundation,” he said softly.

The void stirred.

It was subtle. Not a roar. Not an explosion. Just a low, deep hum. Like something ancient had just taken its first breath in a very, very long time.

He didn’t hesitate.

“Let’s start with the soil. But not ordinary earth. I want land that never spoils. Soil that’s always fertile—rich with life, immune to rot, immune to decay. The kind of ground creation can grow from.”

The dark below bent—rippling like fabric caught in wind.

Then light.

The void folded in on itself as land began to form—plains stretching wide, hills rolling out in slow motion, mountains pushing upward in silence. A living terrain unfolding from nothing.

The soil shimmered with warmth. Each grain glowing faintly, pulsing with divine energy. It wasn’t just alive—it was welcoming.

“Now water,” Elyon said, his voice steady. “Not just to exist, but to give life. Rivers that never run dry. Lakes that stay cool and pure. Oceans that stretch forever, shining like starlight.”

From the newborn land, water burst forth—streams flowing from high cliffs, weaving through valleys in glowing silver ribbons. Lakes settled in calm basins. And far off, at the world’s unseen edge, oceans awakened—vast and deep, their waves catching the light like stars reflected in ink.

Beneath the surface, life stirred. Creatures born of instinct and energy—radiant fish, slow-swimming beasts, glowing leviathans drifting through silent depths.

“Let nothing in these waters suffer,” Elyon said. “No disease. No decay. Let the sea bless its life, not poison it.”

Above, clouds formed. Not heavy. Not dark. Just soft white masses, pulled upward by the warmth of life below. They drifted across the fresh sky like breath made visible.

“And grass,” he continued, lowering his gaze. “Let it grow thick, soft, and full of energy. Green that never fades. Ground that welcomes every footstep.”

Greenery unfolded across the soil.

Grass rose in soft waves, swaying in a wind that hadn’t existed until now. Ancient trees stretched slowly into the sky, their bark glowing faintly, marked by golden script that seemed to breathe. Flowers bloomed in every color. Vines wrapped around stone. Life responded to his voice like it had been waiting for it all along.

Then came the mountains—tall and still, their snowcapped peaks rising like the spines of sleeping giants. They brought balance, anchoring the horizon.

He looked up.

“One sun,” he said. “Golden. Warm. Let it rise with life in its light.”

And it did.

A flare of gold lit the sky, soft at first, then strong—casting warmth over the world. Shadows stretched for the first time.

“And a moon,” he added. “Not for contrast. For memory. Quiet and pale. Marked with stories no one’s told yet. Let it be the keeper of silence.”

The moon appeared—round, glowing faintly, etched with divine symbols that whispered meaning without words.

“And stars. Thousands of them. No… more.”

One by one, the sky filled with distant lights. They flickered into being, scattered across the black like dreams finding a place to rest.

And yet—

It still wasn’t complete.

Something was missing.

He felt it. In the earth. In the air. In himself.

His gaze dropped to the center of the world. A single point pulsed below—quiet, steady, undeniable.

He descended slowly.

And in his hands appeared a flame.

No heat. No smoke. Just light.

A sphere of raw, shifting color—red, gold, silver, violet—changing with every blink. It didn’t shine.

It spoke.

Without words. Without sound.

It was meaning.

The God Seed.

The source of creation itself.

He held it carefully. Reverently. Like a name he hadn’t spoken in years.

Then lowered it toward the center of the land.

The moment it touched the earth, everything changed.

The ground shuddered—not in fear, but in recognition.

Golden roots burst outward, spreading like lightning through the soil. A trunk rose—a massive, luminous column, bark etched with flowing symbols, alive with purpose. It shot upward, piercing sky and cloud, branches unfolding like wings.

The World Tree.

It hadn’t been summoned.

It had been planted.

Its roots connected land, water, and sky—binding the realm into one living whole.

A pulse of energy swept across the world. A heartbeat. The first one.

And beside him, the Divine Interface returned.

[DIVINE INTERFACE NOTICE]

World Core Established

Realm Stabilization: Complete

The rivers calmed.

The sky settled.

Silence returned—but this time, it was full.

Then one more prompt appeared.

[SYSTEM PROMPT]

Please name your world.

He didn’t need to think.

The name had already chosen itself.

“World of Life.”

[WORLD NAME CONFIRMED]

World of Life

The words echoed—not as sound, but as truth.

The leaves of the World Tree glowed. The stars shifted. A divine symbol formed in the sky—etched in starlight, marked in silence.

This was no longer imagination.

This was reality.

And Elyon—once invisible, once forgotten—now stood at the heart of a world born from his will.

The void was gone.

The silence had passed.

Creation had begun.

And he was the one shaping it.