Looking toward my planet, I noticed that the cell I had bestowed the system upon had already died. That much was expected. After all, thirty minutes for me translated into a little over two years for the world below, and the lifespan of a single microscopic cell was fleeting. It was not surprising that the system holder had long since perished. But that was never what truly mattered.
What mattered was the legacy it left behind the changes, the progress. The cells that once looked like nothing more than simple cloudy bubbles had advanced. They were no longer just prokaryotes drifting aimlessly. They had taken a step forward on the long ladder of evolution. Now, they had become what were known as protists.
I leaned closer, fascinated by their diversity. Some resembled strands of algae, glimmering faintly in the water as they absorbed energy from their surroundings. Others had transformed into amorphous amoeba-like shapes, flowing across the surface of the spring with strange, purposeful movement. A few even displayed a spark of something greater a predator's instinct. They darted after smaller organisms, engulfing and consuming them, marking the beginning of the predator-prey relationship.
The next step in evolution for these fragile yet ambitious organisms was clear. They were destined, in time, to diverge into the great pillars of life: plants, fungi, and animals. Yet such developments were still far off, buried in the slow crawl of natural progression. Waiting for eons was something I could afford, but patience has limits, and the desire to see true complexity pushed me to act. Thus, I chose to intervene once more. I reshaped the earlier system and bestowed it upon another organism, this time an algae-like protist that pulsed faintly in the shallow waters.
[Basic Evolution System has been bestowed to an algae-like protist. Name: None]
[Deducting 8 Divinity]
The increase in cost stung more than I expected. To part with so much of my power was not without consequence, and I would be lying if I claimed it did not hurt. Yet, sacrifice was a necessary evil if I wished to hasten the rise of higher life. My actions, however costly, ensured that this world's march toward complexity would not stagnate.
With the system granted again, I found myself with little left to do but wait. Time, for me, slipped by like water. Twelve hours later, my gaze returned to the planet. Already, the landscape was shifting. Simple strands of algae had given rise to the earliest forms of plants, spreading green across the pools and shores. Tiny, wriggling creatures had emerged too, the first hints of animal life beginning their uncertain crawl toward dominance.
Yet amidst these changes, one development captured my attention more than any other. From the lineage of the most recent system holder, a new species had emerged, unlike anything else in those volcanic springs. They resembled fish, small, no more than two centimeters in length, yet clad in pitch-black scales that glistened like obsidian. Their faces were masked in a rigid, bone-like plate, giving them an almost armored appearance. Despite their size, these creatures reigned supreme as apex predators, consuming anything unfortunate enough to cross their path. Their ferocity was unmatched, their hunger unending.
Even more fascinating was what I began to notice among a few of them: small protrusions, hints of growths that could one day become appendages. It was a subtle sign, but undeniable. This species was preparing for another leap forward, one that could forever change the balance of life in these springs. Evolution was no longer just happening. It was accelerating.
This new stage of development brought with it an entirely different set of challenges. Until now, my planet had been nothing more than a sphere of water with a single volcanic spring bubbling away in a shallow pond. It was simple, bare, and small but even within this confined space, life had begun to push against its limits. The organisms I had cultivated were no longer content to remain in the steaming waters of their spring. Some showed faint traces of adaptation, subtle hints that they were preparing to break free, to move beyond the safety of their tiny world and into the unknown. Yet there was a problem. Outside of the spring, there was nothing waiting for them. No soil, no land, no true environment to nurture their growth. Only endless ocean, silent and unforgiving.
Recognizing the danger of stagnation, I knew it was time to intervene again. Before acting, however, I opened my status screen to measure my current standing.
[Name: Zane Mercer]
[Age: 20]
[Talent: System Creator (SS)]
[Divinity: 9 Divinity]
[No. of Organisms: 21.63 Billion]
The figures brought a rare smile to my face. My reserves of divinity had grown considerably thanks to the cycle of death and rebirth happening within the spring. Billions of organisms lived and died in the span of hours, their brief existences flowing back into me like a tide. Nine points of divinity was not limitless, but it was enough to shape the next stage of my grand design.
I spread my hands and let the divine energy surge through me, channeled with the precision of thought and will. Slowly, I reached down toward the planet, feeling its molten core and fragile crust. With deliberate care, I pulled at its surface. The world trembled in response, waters rolling outward as the ground beneath them swelled. Bit by bit, stone and earth rose from the depths.
When at last I released my hold, a landmass nearly one hundred kilometers across had emerged from the ocean. Its heart was the volcanic spring, now perched proudly at the island's center like a crown jewel. Steam rose from its surface, curling into the sky, while molten cracks along its rim painted the ground with a dim red glow.
But I was not finished. Raising my finger, I carved deep trenches leading from the ocean straight into the volcanic spring. Water rushed in, filling the channels with a hiss of heat and steam. These trenches became passageways, lifelines connecting two vastly different realms. The organisms of the spring now faced a choice written into the very bones of their world. Some would venture into the ocean, testing themselves against its vastness and depth. Others might crawl onto the warm, rocky surface of the new island, beginning the long, uncertain journey toward land-based life.
As I surveyed my work, a sense of satisfaction swelled within me. This was more than just terrain it was opportunity, a stage set for evolution to accelerate in directions never before possible. My first island had been born, and with it, the promise of countless futures.