The One Who Writes Existence-Chapter 32: Creation of a Realm 2

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The Sanctum was silent.

All eyes were on Zar.

The main gods, beings who had shaped countless worlds, watched with unreadable expressions. Some were curious. Some intrigued. And some, for the first time in their existence, felt something they never thought they would feel.

Anticipation.

Zar exhaled. A calm, measured breath. Then, he stepped forward.

And reality shattered.

With a single step, space itself broke apart beneath his feet.

The very fabric of existence—something that even the God of Space, Aetherion, wove with delicate care—collapsed effortlessly. Like glass shattering in slow motion, fragments of distorted reality floated around him, dissolving into the abyss.

Yet, the destruction did not consume him.

Zar kept walking, his movements slow, precise, majestic.

And as he did, something impossible happened.

Behind him—where there should have been nothing but an empty void—creation followed.

Threads of existence manifested in his wake.

At first, they were subtle, like faint golden streaks in the darkness. But within seconds, they expanded.

Countless luminous strands wove themselves into the nothingness, gleaming like celestial rivers.

Each thread pulsed with untold power. Some shimmered with golden brilliance, some radiated with the deep glow of the cosmos, while others reflected forces that even gods did not recognize.

Zar did not look back. He simply continued forward, his presence alone rewriting reality.

The Gods watched in stunned silence.

Even Aetherion, the one who oversaw space and time, had his eyes widened slightly. He had seen realms be formed. He had shaped them himself. But never like this.

For every step Zar took, destruction and creation danced in harmony.

Where space once existed, it was erased. But where he had walked, an entire foundation of a realm was already forming.

It was not chaotic.

It was not forced.

It was natural.

As if the very act of Zar's existence demanded the creation of something greater.

The threads behind him intertwined, forming constellations of limitless possibilities. Stars ignited and flickered out within moments. Celestial landscapes sculpted themselves from nothingness, only to unravel once more—as if even they were unworthy to remain in the presence of something greater.

The lesser gods—beings who had never seen creation beyond its final form—stood frozen, unable to comprehend what they were witnessing.

To them, realms were merely matter, life, time, and space.

But this...

This was something else.

Something far beyond what they understood.

And yet, no one spoke. No one dared to interrupt.

Because they felt it.

An undeniable, absolute authority.

Zar was not merely shaping a realm.

He was commanding it into existence.

The threads behind him wove faster, aligning into a symphony of power. The very essence of reality trembled beneath his steps, bowing to his will.

Then—

Zar stopped.

In that instant, the entire Sanctum shook.

Not from force. Not from impact.

But from the sheer, uncontainable presence of what had just been created.

The Gods—beings who had watched the birth and death of countless worlds—felt something stir in their souls.

Aetherion slowly exhaled.

Noctis narrowed his eyes, his fingers tightening ever so slightly.

Even the System, who never seemed truly impressed, let out a long, low whistle.

["Damn, Zar. You just had to flex on them like that, huh?"]

Zar stood amidst the swirling golden threads of creation, his presence alone bending the very laws of reality. The Gods watched in absolute silence, their divine gazes locked onto the impossible.

Behind Zar, the luminous threads wove and spiraled, forming an intricate web of power—a cosmic tapestry that defied comprehension. Some glowed with the radiance of newborn stars, others shimmered like the fabric of time itself. Each one carried a power unknown to even the most ancient deities.

Yet, no one dared to ask.

They felt it.

The birth of something that had never existed before.

Aetherion, the God of Space and Time, narrowed his eyes. The way the threads aligned, the way they moved, it was—

No.

Even he could not fully grasp it.

And then—

Zar moved.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand.

A pulse of raw power radiated outward, shaking the very foundations of the multiverse.

Then, space collapsed.

The luminous strands surged together, folding in on themselves, compressing.

In mere moments, what had once been an expanse as vast as half the multiverse—a realm so massive that even the gods could barely fathom its scale—began to shrink.

It did not shatter.

It did not warp chaotically.

It simply... obeyed.

The Gods' divine senses could barely keep up as the grand cosmos-like expanse compressed into itself, shrinking smaller, smaller, and smaller.

Until—

Zar stood there, holding a realm in the palm of his hand.

A world, entire dimensions, infinite landscapes and celestial bodies—contained within something no larger than a small sphere.

He held it with effortless grace, his fingers barely curled around its form.

And yet, the power within it trembled violently.

The Gods could feel it.

That tiny orb was not just a realm. It was a living, breathing existence.

It was absolute creation.

Zar slowly examined it, tilting his hand ever so slightly. The sphere of condensed reality flickered, colors shifting within it like an entire universe compressed into something that should not exist.

The lesser gods struggled to comprehend.

This was not how realms were born.

Realms required structure.

Realms required foundation.

Realms required space.

And yet, Zar had done away with all of that.

Then—

He closed his hand.

And the realm vanished.

Gone.

Not destroyed. Not dispersed. Simply... gone.

For a moment, there was only silence.

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Then—

A sound like the breaking of reality itself.

CRACK.

Space itself split open.

A vast Gate appeared before them, towering beyond comprehension.

Its surface was carved with ancient sigils, pulsating with primordial energy.

The Gods felt their divine senses falter just by looking at it.

The space surrounding it shattered like fragile glass.

Yet, at the same time, those very fragments of reality restored themselves, folding back into place with a beauty beyond mortal comprehension.

It was destruction and restoration.

Chaos and order.

Power and control.

And it was... mesmerizing.

Noctis exhaled slowly. "By the void..."

Aetherion clenched his jaw, his mind racing.

He had never seen anything like this.

And that terrified him.

The other Gods were no different.

Even those who had once ruled over the vast stretches of existence stood frozen.

Because what they had witnessed today was not just creation.

It was authority.

Zar stepped forward, his gaze unwavering.

And with a voice that echoed through the very fabric of the multiverse, he spoke.

"Shall we begin?"