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*****
To George, this body was nothing more than a clone.
Even if it were destroyed, it wouldn't be a total loss.
As long as he could learn from Ilúvatar the method to perfect his small world, the trade would be more than worth it.
Once he mastered the process, all his other selves — across countless realities — could ascend as well.
Even if Ilúvatar harbored some hidden scheme, even if the Creator one day devoured this clone and its world, George wouldn't consider it a major loss.
So when Ilúvatar exposed his identity, George didn't panic.
He only pretended to look uneasy on the surface — because showing composure before a being like Ilúvatar would be foolish.
"Didn't expect you to find me out," he said calmly. "Truthfully, I don't even know why I came to this world. My soul simply… attached itself to this body."
That was no lie — he genuinely didn't understand how this incarnation had ended up here. His clones across worlds were not something he actively controlled.
But he also wouldn't tell Ilúvatar that this body was only one of many, nor that other versions of him existed throughout different worlds.
In truth, he was probing — testing whether Ilúvatar knew of realities beyond his own creation.
It was one of the deepest questions George had carried since he first began traveling worlds:
What lies beyond the worlds we know?
Do the creators of these worlds realize there are others like theirs?
And if they do — is there a way to travel between them?
If such a path existed, perhaps all of his scattered selves could someday be reunited.
Until now, he'd never had the chance to face a world's original Creator.
Now that he did, he intended to take full advantage of it.
"You don't know — that's perfectly normal," Ilúvatar said gently, motioning for George to sit opposite him. "There are many powerful creators who, out of boredom, like to toss the souls of their world's beings into random places."
George's eyes flickered.
"There are creators… stronger than You?"
Ilúvatar smiled faintly.
"Stronger? I wouldn't say that. I'm not as mighty as you imagine. You don't need to be so guarded. I know you have many questions — I can answer them all."
With a wave of his hand, a crystal decanter appeared on the table, filled with golden wine.
"Consider this a small token of gratitude — compensation for sparing Melkor."
Though Ilúvatar had created Elves and Men, the Valar and Maiar were merely fragments of his own mind, reflections of his spirit — parts of himself.
Manwë and Varda represented his positive thoughts; Melkor, his darker impulses.
So even though Melkor had committed countless sins, Ilúvatar couldn't allow George to devour his soul. Doing so would have damaged Ilúvatar himself.
A few Maiar like Sauron or Gothmog could be lost without consequence — but a Valar like Morgoth? That would leave a scar.
Still, Ilúvatar hadn't used force to stop him. He didn't want enmity with George.
Even though George's current strength fell short of his own, his growth rate was terrifying — in only a few years, he had reached the threshold of a lowest-tier creator.
Clearly, someone extraordinary stood behind him.
To send a being into his world without his awareness… that was a feat beyond Ilúvatar's own ability.
Such a being was not one to offend.
If George were a malevolent soul, a future threat to him or to Arda itself, Ilúvatar would have risked everything to eliminate him.
But after observing him for years, Ilúvatar found George's heart surprisingly steady and uncorrupted. Better to befriend such a person now than to make him an enemy later.
That was why he had chosen to appear personally and guide him — rather than simply command the Valar of Valinor to deal with him.
"Then I must thank You," George said sincerely, bowing once more.
"I have a question — if I wished to return to my own world, how could I do so?"
A soul displaced into another world asking how to return — it was an entirely reasonable inquiry.
Ilúvatar did not seem suspicious.
"Let me explain my own situation first," he said after a pause. "Once you understand, the answer will come naturally."
"I awoke in a vast Chaos — empty, boundless, formless. There was nothing but raw energy.
Instinctively, I began to absorb that energy, slowly growing stronger…"
Through Ilúvatar's patient explanation, George finally began to grasp the structure of the multiversal hierarchy.
In essence, Ilúvatar was a Primordial Lifeform, a being born directly from Chaos itself.
As he matured, curiosity drove him to seek others of his kind. He roamed the endless Chaos, encountering other primordial beings — some weaker, some stronger, some friendly, others predatory and hungry for his essence.
Over time, he learned from them — and began to create a world of his own.
That world became Arda, the Middle-earth that George now stood within.
After creating it, he gradually expanded it, and to maintain its balance and growth, he split his essence into the Valar and the Maiar — divine administrators of his cosmos.
Then came the Elves and Men, his children of light and freedom.
Everything George had read in the tales of Middle-earth was true — only now he knew it all operated under Ilúvatar's predetermined destiny.
Like the Sacred Timeline of the Marvel Universe, all events in this world were fixed in the grand composition — the Great Music.
The creation of Arda, the Ages of the Lamps, the Years of the Trees, and the First, Second, Third, and Fourth Ages of the Sun — all were threads of a divine symphony, unchanging and precise.
Even as Ilúvatar expanded his creation — forging parallel worlds and alternate versions — the structure remained fixed. It was the step from a single universe toward a true multiverse.
George's arrival had disrupted one of those threads, knocking destiny slightly off course.
But to Ilúvatar, it wasn't catastrophic.
Given enough time, things would return to balance — Elves would still fade in the Fourth Age, and Men would inherit the world.
"So in the Chaos, there are others like You — other primordial beings?" George asked after a long silence.
Ilúvatar shook his head slowly.
"Not exactly. In the beginning, yes — all were primordial lifeforms.
But as worlds were born and grew stronger, new beings emerged from within — powerful postnatal lifeforms.
Those who mastered their worlds could eventually free themselves from their origins, step into Chaos, and create worlds of their own."
He smiled slightly, meeting George's eyes.
"Just like you. Once you complete your small world, if I do not stop you, you too can leave my creation and venture freely through the Chaos — to open a realm of your own."
(End of Chapter)