"
[Soft ambient hum · the sound of wind moving through cosmic dust]
Narrator (calm, measured):
Time has no meaning to a planet, but Oris learned to measure it anyway.
He called each revolution around the nearest star a "day," and each thousand revolutions a "cycle." It was his way of keeping the quiet company of eternity.
The first cycle after his awakening was peaceful.
No enemies, no visitors—only the rhythm of growth.
---
Narrator:
Each morning, if such a thing could exist in the vacuum, Oris checked his System.
> [SYSTEM STATUS]
Outer Scale: Planetary Tier 1
Clones Active: 2 (Verrin, Lume)
Energy Units Stored: 1,840
Available Skills: Clone · Link · Absorption · Creation · Telepathy
He expanded one consciousness after another, letting his mind wander through the currents of magma under his crust. His continents whispered with new life—green algae in shallow seas, drifting clouds of plankton, the first fluttering wings of airborne insects he had designed the day before.
This was his normal.
---
Verrin (cheerful, distant):
> "The oceans on my surface have cooled completely, Father. Should I begin life implantation?"
Oris:
> "Yes. Start small. Let them evolve on their own."
Lume (analytical):
> "Your absorption rate is stable, Core. Shall I begin harvesting the radiation from the nearby dwarf star?"
Oris:
> "Do it. Store half, share half through the Link."
Narrator:
Orders rippled through the hive. Verrin and Lume obeyed without hesitation, not as servants, but as extensions of the same soul.
Together they formed a rhythm—creation, absorption, rest.
The cosmos around them filled slowly with seed-worlds: fragments of Oris scattered like pollen across the darkness.
He created five more clones that cycle.
Each sprouted with its own tone of thought:
Serel, who loved silence.
Doro, who spoke endlessly, narrating every mountain he raised.
Elen, who kept count of stars.
Rin, whose surface shimmered with crystal deserts.
Kio, who dreamed constantly and shared those dreams through the Link.
Each clone knew itself and yet was Oris.
Their conversations filled his quiet days with warmth.
---
Narrator (soft smile in the voice):
The System rewarded his routine diligence.
> [SKILL UPGRADE UNLOCKED]
Creation → World-Architect Lv 2
Absorption → Stellar Drain Lv 2
New Passive: Seed-Bloom (automatically converts stored energy into new landmasses).
He felt the change immediately: energy flowed more freely, his surface cracked and reformed, birthing new continents.
He didn't need to think about growing anymore—it happened naturally, like breathing.
---
Narrator:
Every evening, when the surrounding stars dimmed, Oris entered meditation.
He reviewed each linked mind, listened to their reports, and expanded the hive's awareness.
Their voices overlapped in a soothing symphony.
> "Another meteor absorbed."
"New mountain chain stabilised."
"Lifeform count reached one hundred million."
"Dream cycle complete."
This was what it meant to live as a planet—constant creation, quiet maintenance, unending connection.
---
[A faint metallic echo drifts through the void]
But one day, during a regular absorption cycle, a ripple disturbed the silence.
At first, it felt like dust—weak radiation, erratic signals.
Then came rhythm: beeps, bursts of data, unmistakably artificial.
Lume (alert):
> "Core, I detect structured transmission. Frequency pattern — non-natural."
Oris:
> "Source?"
Lume:
> "Uncharted sector, approximately ten thousand light-years beyond Verrin's orbit. Estimated travel time for normal propulsion: several centuries."
Oris:
> "Monitor, but do not approach. It may be one of the old machines."
The signal faded after a while, but its memory lingered.
He could not know that, far across the universe, humans—a space-traveling species—had just detected something they could not explain: a celestial body emitting organised energy pulses, as if alive.
---
Narrator:
The next cycles passed quietly again.
Oris ignored the faint anxiety that the transmission had stirred and returned to his daily rituals.
He spawned two new continents using Seed-Bloom:
one of crystal forests that sang in resonance with his magnetic field, and one of endless shallow seas where floating organisms reflected starlight like living mirrors.
He named them Serenity and Echo.
Naming, he had learned, made the emptiness feel smaller.
---
Narrator:
At intervals, he checked the Outer Scale display.
> [Outer Scale Progress: Planetary Tier 1 → Tier 2 Pending]
Requirement: Total Clone Count ≥ 10 | Energy ≥ 5,000 Units
Current: 9 Clones | 4,890 Units
He smiled inwardly. One more clone, one more heartbeat in the hive.
> Activate Skill – Clone
Designation: Nyra
Link Established.
Nyra (soft voice):
> "I see everything, Father. The stars, your children… it's beautiful."
Her perception was sharper than the others; she became his eyes, his scout. Through her, Oris began mapping the nearby regions of space.
---
[A long, slow build of sound—like an orchestra swelling]
Narrator (slightly tense):
Then, without warning, Nyra's voice trembled.
> Nyra: "Core… movement. Metallic clusters approaching from the distant black. Thousands of small vessels… they emit heat, light… I believe they are alive, but not like us."
Oris (calmly):
> "Describe them."
> Nyra: "They ride ships made of steel. They speak in noise I cannot decode."
Narrator:
The hive went silent, all clones listening through Nyra's senses.
Tiny dots—ships—were crossing the void, drifting toward the sector that held Oris's expanding domain.
Lume:
> "Could these be the origin of the earlier signal?"
Oris:
> "Possibly. Observe. Do not engage."
He didn't feel fear. Only curiosity.
The thought of minds that moved separately from his own was foreign, yet fascinating.
---
Narrator:
For a dozen cycles, the fleet crept closer, unaware that every move was being watched by a sentient world.
Inside Oris, life continued.
Rivers cut new paths. Winds shifted. Small civilisations of his created species learned to use fire and tools. They called their world Mother, not knowing their "Mother" could hear every prayer.
He listened fondly, amused, as the hive discussed them like gardeners over new sprouts.
Verrin:
> "They worship you already."
Oris:
> "Let them. Belief is another kind of Link."
---
[Low rumble · the sense of distance shrinking]
Narrator:
Then came the day when the human fleet finally reached the edge of Nyra's orbit.
Their instruments flared with readings: an uncharted planet radiating impossible energy signatures, its moons pulsing in rhythm like neurons in a brain.
The humans had never seen such symmetry. To them it looked like design.
They prepared probes, drones, landing ships.
They didn't yet know that the "planet" they were approaching was aware—watching, listening, feeling their curiosity tickle his atmosphere.
Oris (quietly to the hive):
> "They've arrived."
Verrin:
> "What will we do, Father?"
Oris:
> "Nothing yet. We will let them see. Let them learn."
Narrator (calm, fading):
And so, the living planet continued his day-to-day existence:
expanding, absorbing, dreaming, creating—
while on the far edge of his skies, the first ships of humankind descended through his clouds, thinking they had found another lifeless world to claim.
They had no idea that the ground beneath them could think back.
To be continued.