[Before Time Had Meaning]
IT observed.
From the throne that was everywhere and nowhere, from the perspective that encompassed every atom of every star in every galaxy across infinite dimensions, IT watched the small blue world IT had made with such care.
Edria.
Such a simple name for such an extraordinary creation. IT had shaped countless worlds, breathed life into a million species across the cosmos, painted nebulae with colors that mortal eyes could never perceive. But this world, this insignificant speck of rock and water orbiting an unremarkable yellow star, held something the others did not.
Humanity.
IT loved them.
Not with the distant affection of an artist for their painting, but with a fierce, consuming adoration that defied logic. IT had created dragons with world-ending power, elves with timeless grace, dwarves with unbreakable will. IT had made the fae mysterious, the merfolk elegant, the giants strong.
But humanity? Humanity IT made special.
To them alone, IT gave The Spark—a fragment of ITs own creative divinity. The ability to innovate, to dream, to reshape magic itself. While elves performed spells passed down through millennia and dragons wielded power by birthright, humans created. They took the magic IT gave them and made it into something new, something even IT had not imagined.
They were imperfect, chaotic, short-lived, and utterly magnificent.
And IT had never walked among them.
IT had watched civilizations rise from primitive tribes to mighty empires. IT had seen the first human mage split fire from air, the first academy built with towers scraping the sky. IT had observed wars and peace, love and hatred, triumph and tragedy.
But IT had never stood in those cities. Never felt the cobblestones beneath feet. Never heard the market sounds with mortal ears. Never breathed the air of the world IT created.
IT wanted to see ITs creation through their eyes. To walk ITs world not as the Supreme Architect viewing all from beyond, but as one among many, moving through the reality IT had woven.
Not to become human. Never that.
IT was God. IT was Supreme. IT was Absolute.
But IT could wear a human shape, walk in human form, and see how ITs beloved children lived in the paradise IT had built for them.
And so, IT made a decision.
Reality shuddered.
The Primordials stirred in their ancient slumber, sensing the impossible. The dragons raised their heads in caves carved at the world's foundation. The Elven Ascendants in their floating citadels felt a cosmic wrongness ripple through the Weave.
The Supreme was moving.
"THIS IS FOLLY," a voice like collapsing stars spoke from the void. Entropy, oldest of the Primordials, manifested in the space between spaces. "YOU DESCEND TO WALK AMONG INSECTS. IT IS BENEATH YOU."
IT regarded the Primordial with the patience of eternity. "Nothing I choose is beneath Me. I AM the measure of all things. If I walk among them, then that act becomes the highest privilege creation has ever known."
"THEY WILL NOT KNOW YOU," Entropy pressed.
"They will know what I allow them to know," IT replied. "I will be as human as I wish to be. And I will be as God as I need to be. I contain all possibilities."
"AND IF THEY DISAPPOINT YOU?" Entropy asked, and there was hunger in those words. "IF YOUR BELOVED HUMANS PROVE UNWORTHY OF YOUR LOVE?"
IT was silent for a moment that stretched across universes.
"Then I will know," IT said finally. "And I will decide what comes next."
IT began to take shape. Not diminishing—IT could never be lessened. Not limiting—IT could never be bound. Simply... focusing. Concentrating the infinite into a singular point of existence, like light through a lens.
A form crystallized in the void: young, strong, unremarkably handsome. Dark hair, green eyes that held depths no mortal could comprehend. A body that seemed human but was woven from the same essence that created stars.
"I will call this form Aldric," IT decided. "A human name. Simple. Forgettable. Perfect."
But there was nothing simple or forgettable about what stood in the void. The form radiated presence—an undeniable weight of existence that would make reality itself bow.
Too much. Mortals would recognize ITs nature immediately.
With a thought, IT dimmed the radiance. Not gone, never gone, but veiled. Like covering the sun with silk—the light was still there, still absolute, but bearable to mortal eyes.
"I WILL WATCH," Entropy promised. "WE ALL WILL WATCH."
"You may watch," IT acknowledged. "But you may not interfere. This is My creation. My humans. My world. Touch them, and I will unmake you so completely that even the concept of your existence will be forgotten."
Entropy retreated into the dark.
The form—Aldric—descended toward Edria like a falling star. Not crashing, but arriving. Reality parted like curtains, welcoming its creator home.
As IT touched the world, the Weave sang. Magic itself recognized its source and rejoiced.
Aldric stood on a hill overlooking Lumeria, the greatest city humanity had built. Seven spires reached toward the sky, each dedicated to a school of magic. Airships drifted between floating platforms. The streets glowed with enchanted streetlamps, and he could hear the distant sounds of a million lives being lived.
Beautiful, IT thought. They built this. My children built this with the gifts I gave them.
Pride swelled in the chest of this human form—a curious feeling, warm and fierce.
Aldric looked at his hands. They appeared human: five fingers, callused palms, mortal flesh. But beneath the surface, they were the hands that had shaped galaxies. These fingers had drawn the laws of physics into being, had painted reality into existence, had given life to all that was.
"Let us see," Aldric said aloud, and his voice was gentle, warm, human. "Let us see what my beloved humans have made of the world I gave them."
He began walking down the hill toward the city.
With each step, the grass beneath his feet grew greener. Flowers bloomed in his footsteps, unbidden. The air grew sweeter. Reality itself seemed to breathe easier in his presence.
He noticed and smiled. Even diminished, even veiled, he was still the Supreme. His very existence was a blessing to the world.
In the Grand Academy, a professor stopped mid-lecture, feeling an inexplicable urge to look out the window. In the royal palace, the king shivered despite the warm day. In the depths of Eldrawood, the World Tree's oldest branches trembled.
Something had arrived.
But none of them understood what.
Aldric reached the city gates. Guards stood at attention, checking travelers. He joined the line, waiting patiently like any other visitor, amused by the mortal ritual of it all.
When his turn came, the guard—a weathered veteran named Marcus—looked at him and froze.
There was something about this young man. Something in his eyes. Something that made Marcus want to kneel, though he didn't know why.
"Name?" Marcus managed, his voice rough.
"Aldric," IT replied with a gentle smile. "Just Aldric."
"Purpose in Lumeria?"
"I've come to see the city. To meet people. To understand how they live." The smile widened. "I've heard such wonderful things about humanity."
Marcus nodded mechanically and waved him through, and felt inexplicably blessed for the rest of his day.
Aldric stepped through the gates into Lumeria.
Around him, the city lived and breathed. Merchants called their wares. Children laughed in the streets. Mages in colorful robes hurried to lessons. An elf and dwarf argued good-naturedly in a tavern. A young couple held hands, lost in each other's eyes.
This, IT thought. This is what I came to see.
Not from above. Not from beyond. But here, among them, wearing their shape, walking their streets.
God had descended.
And the world would never be the same.
Deep in the void beyond reality, the Primordials watched.
In the floating citadels, the Elven Ascendants sensed a disturbance they could not name.
In mountain caves, dragons stirred uneasily.
But humanity, beloved humanity, went about their day, unaware that their Creator walked among them.
Unaware that every prayer ever whispered, every miracle ever hoped for, every divine mystery ever wondered...
Was now a young man with dark hair and green eyes, smiling as he bought an apple from a street vendor and marveling at the simple joy of taste.
IT was Supreme.
IT was God.
IT was Absolute.
And IT had come to see what love looked like, up close.