First I found a singular cell and began to wait for it to split. The small, translucent body floated in the cloudy waters of this young planet, fragile and yet full of possibility. I watched in complete silence, holding my breath as though my will alone could coax it forward. After a long stretch of anticipation, the cell finally began to elongate and pinch inwards, pulling itself apart until at last it split.
The moment it divided, I quickly locked onto the newly created cell. My focus was absolute, my intent clear. I willed for the system to be bestowed upon this cell, to guide it down the path I had envisioned.
[Basic evolution system has been binded to a prokaryote. Name: None]
[Deducting divinity]
As this message echoed through my mind, the cell shimmered faintly. For only the briefest instant it lit up, glowing as though infused with a divine spark, before fading back to its natural cloudy color. I leaned closer, unable to contain the excitement welling up within me. This was the beginning, my beginning.
I stared at the simple lifeform in front of me, my thoughts racing with possibilities. It looked no different from the countless others drifting across the microscopic sea, yet I knew better. Something had changed. This one carried potential, the seed of everything that was to come.
Moments later, the cell split again. This time, however, I kept my focus firmly on the one bound to the system. As the new offspring emerged, a faint light engulfed it once more. It dimmed just as quickly, but I noticed something subtle, something extraordinary.
When I truly honed in on its structure, peering deeper than ever before, I saw it. A new presence had formed within, something foreign yet vital. An organelle. My mind reeled, and without meaning to, I recalled the lessons drilled into me during high school biology. A phrase I had heard so many times it had become cliché suddenly carried a weight unlike ever before: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell."
I whispered the words to myself as if repeating an incantation. Staring at the tiny structure pulsing inside the cell, it was all I could think about. The mitochondria, the symbol of higher life, of complexity, of endurance.
With this new power source, the cell immediately began to change. Its body swelled larger than its siblings, its movements more deliberate, less fragile. It looked confident, if such a thing could be said of a microbe. And in my heart I knew instinctively what this meant: the lifespan of this cell had extended far beyond that of its weaker cousins. Where they would flicker briefly before dying out, this one could endure.
My pulse quickened, and my excitement soared.
Just as these thoughts filled my mind, the cell once again prepared to divide. I watched, utterly fixated, as its form stretched and pinched until two cells drifted apart. The faint light shimmered once more, bathing the newborn in subtle brilliance. But this time, my eyes weren't drawn to the glow. Instead, I looked at the new cell, searching for what I hoped, what I knew, must be there.
And I saw it.
The mitochondria.
"Hahahaha!" The laughter burst from me uncontrollably, loud and unrestrained. It echoed like thunder in my own mind. My plan had worked. What was unfolding before me was no accident of nature, no slow roll of chance across billions of years. This was intention made real, purpose manifest.
I hadn't merely wanted one cell to evolve. No, that would never have been enough. From the very beginning, I had planned for them all to change, to be uplifted, to accelerate beyond the limits of random mutation. And now it was happening.
In front of me was not simply a cell with mitochondria. It was a harbinger, a carrier of legacy. Every time it divided, every time its offspring took shape, the new organelle was passed on. The evolution wasn't an isolated event, it was replicating itself, spreading like fire through a dry forest.
This realization left me trembling with exhilaration. The implications were staggering. If every division carried forward these traits, then the climb from simplicity to complexity, from survival to dominance, would not take eons. It would take moments. The process of life on this planet had been set into motion, accelerated many times over.
In front of me floated not just a cell, but the foundation for everything that was to come, plants, animals, intelligence, civilizations. It all began here, with a spark, a glow, and the faint hum of the powerhouse of the cell.
Knowing that it would take time for things to truly change, I turned my attention away from the blue sphere floating quietly in front of me. My planet would develop, but not in an instant. Watching it endlessly would only leave me restless, so I decided instead to open the [Chat] once more and see what the other gods were saying.
The moment I entered, the familiar flood of messages scrolled rapidly across my vision. They were always there, constant and repetitive, desperate cries filling the channel like the waves of an endless ocean. Pleas for help. Questions shouted into the void. Begging to know whether their loved ones had survived. Yet, like always, the responses were silence. The chat was a place of noise but little comfort, a reminder that no one had the answers they sought.
Still, as I skimmed through the endless chatter, a sudden pattern of messages caught my eye. A cluster stood out, more animated than the rest.
[Hera: Big shot Nova please tell us what new talent you got.]
[Blizard: +1]
[Radiance: +2]
[Fission: +2359]
I blinked at the sheer flood of plus signs piling up beneath the request. The count kept rising, the chat filled with eager demands until the scrolling became almost unreadable. Everyone was clearly waiting for this one answer.
Finally, after what felt like ages, a reply came.
[Nova: Fine, since all you guys are so desperate I guess I can pass on the information of this minor talent.]
The chat erupted again, the anticipation palpable even through the sterile text. Moments later, his talent appeared clearly for all to read.
[Nova:
Talent name: Boosted Growth (C)
Talent effect: All organisms on your planet are naturally bigger than normal. Current multiplier 3x]
As my eyes traced the words, I found myself feeling surprisingly underwhelmed. Compared to Nova's other talent, this one felt almost plain. All it did was enlarge the size of his inhabitants. Bigger bodies did not necessarily mean stronger, smarter, or more adaptable. At first glance, it did not change much of substance.
But the chat thought otherwise.
[Hera: That's insane, three times bigger from the start?]
[Blizard: Unfair, so unfair. I got a D rank talent that does almost nothing.]
[Radiance: First an S rank, now this? The gap just keeps widening.]
Lines like these filled the feed, message after message venting outrage or envy. Many were bitter, lamenting their own weak talents, while others gushed about how powerful such an advantage must be. The voices blended together into a roar of excitement and frustration.
I leaned back and sighed. The noise of the chat was exhausting, and none of it changed my reality. Whether Nova's talent was powerful or not, it had nothing to do with my own progress. Closing the window, I pushed aside the flood of complaints and praise.
What truly mattered now was my next step. What path should I take to push my world forward?