CHAPTER 56: CREATION IS ALWAYS THE BEGINNING, NEVER THE END

Then, closing the portal, he tightened his hand into the shape of a blade and stabbed directly into his heart. Pain flared within him, yet he grinned through clenched teeth.

"CREATE."

[Activating Level Four Curse Word]

[Command protocols are being read from mind]

The command was clear in Allen’s mind, and his system read it profoundly: create a universe out of my body.

That was the price, and even his cruel immortality ability couldn’t stop it.

[System Command has begun execution]

The last buzzing sound of his system rang in his head. He could see the emerald glow even with his eyelids shut tight against the pain that seared through his body.

Then it began.

In the expanse of space, white light shone brighter than the sun.

Nothing was seen but creation itself.

From the white light, Allen’s right eye rose with golden radiance and became the new sun, hovering still in the center of space.

His left eye then came forth—dark, quiet, and still. It became the moon, smaller than the sun, hovering at the opposite end.

Then his flesh disassembled and evolved, becoming the earth itself—but greater than any earth before. It engulfed the elves, demons, werewolves, and few humans that hung in the gravity of space, though they remained mid-air.

Then Allen’s last breath poured out from his lungs and became the new wind. It carried the new planet and restored gravity to a normal state, pulling everything to the bare ground—though only for now.

Not only was this a new earth, but it had better features.

His system-gene abilities were fused into it.

His cruel immortality ability made it maintain its shape and form. Even if it was dug, the earth would regenerate like a wound.

His blind predator ability, fused with a fragment of his flesh, created diverse animals of all kinds—carnivores, herbivores, and omnivores. In accordance with nature, there were animals of the air, beasts of the land, and fish of the sea, lying alive upon the bare ground, awaiting the creation of water.

Then came forth his blood. Allen’s blood gushed out—one path creating pure white clouds that held divine water, the other becoming streams, rivers, and oceans of living waters.

The land was demarcated from the sea by difference in depth, and nature could not be imagined more beautiful.

Then vegetation. Plants were born from nothing but seeds.

Allen’s holy seed fused with the earth, bringing forth diverse plants: shrubs, monocotyledons, trees, grasses—all kinds, with no single species left out.

Volcanoes were not forgotten in this new creation.

The earth gave rise to their shapes, and Allen’s stomach enzymes became the lava beneath the surface—red, hot, boiling.

Caves and mountains were formed, each bearing mineral resources—gold, diamond, and more—gifts that would allow the world to grow into modern life. These minerals were born from the god’s body.

His nails formed hard minerals like diamond and iron, while his saliva became liquid minerals like cursed oil.

Creation within was whole, and from the outside, the earth appeared spherical. But creation had just begun beyond it.

Time came into existence. Allen’s system became time, forming the orbit of the earth around the sun, and the moon around the earth—a pattern to keep the twenty-four-hour cycle running.

And all heat became the engine of the system itself, the force that kept the earth and moon rotating within the expanse of space.

It was completed. The earth’s creation was completed.

But creation was not finished.

Allen’s soul rose up from amidst the creation. He was no longer ranked a lower god, but a true god, since only spiritual beings could ascend so high.

Even if a lower god harnessed infinite strength, he would never become a god unless he gave up true mortality.

Allen’s soul ascended, higher and higher, beyond any human gaze, to a point where even the stars failed to reach. Then it spoke to the space.

"CREATE."

No system replied this time. These were the words of a god, carrying power of their own.

The space obeyed, and the heavens began to form.

First, an infinite expanse of light without a source, then a large golden gate at its entrance—regal and divine.

It opened, revealing the glory within. The air danced; angels were already created, singing blissful choruses that blessed the very name of Allen. The pathways were woven out of gold, silver, and diamond, and even houses were crafted from the same.

The number of houses was beyond counting, circling a high mountain, each rising one behind the other.

The mountain rose like a cone, its winding pathway leading to the summit, a stairway of gold flanked by lush green vegetation—so rich that even bitter leaves appeared as ornaments.

And at the very peak of the mountain stood a courtyard, with only one seat.

A throne, made of elements the human mind could not comprehend —yet marked with a simple sign that made its meaning clear.

A C-shaped curve crested on the otherworldly metal, facing a backwards C.

The mark of the Copy God.

One who copies in any form—be it attack, power, or movement.

There he sat, gazing regally down on all that he had created, and whispered,

"It is completed."

Now Zeus had nothing to brag about. Allen had a world of his own—and equally, he was a god of his own.

Down on earth, every single person stood tall, their gaze fixed upon the skies.

Was it disbelief? Was it hope? Or was it a call?

They all carried it in their hearts. They had lived to witness creation. Yet some, no doubt, would have preferred Allen himself over a new earth. But the deed was done.

Natasha, Elara, Tasha, Isabell, Kelion, Garric, Amaterasu—all stood, hands bound together, breath caught in their lungs.

They had seen him state his purpose, but could scarcely imagine a whole planet born from him.

Even Lilitu and Thalvron stood beneath the sun unharmed. Allen’s eyes had seen all beings as equals, and thus his sun was not hostile to vampires.

Even Tamara nodded, as though acknowledging the end of a script she herself had written. She was a lower god by rank, created immortal by Zeus, fixed permanently in her station.

But now, she had given birth to a god like her—not good, not evil, but wholly himself.

She smiled upward, seeing her adopted child break a boundary even she could not.

But though everything had been completed, both in heaven and on earth, one question lingered quietly.

Was it Allen—or his clone—who had paid the sacrifice?