The twin moons hung low over the crystalline forest of the Jura Tempest Borderlands, their violet and silver light fracturing across the jagged gem-leaves like scattered prisms. The air carried a sharp, electric tang—ozone mingled with the sweet bloom of alien flowers that had no Earthly counterpart. Soft chimes rang through the canopy as the wind brushed the crystalline branches, creating a natural symphony that underscored the alien beauty of this new world.
Ranga and the newly subdued pack of Tempest Wolves patrolled the perimeter in disciplined formation. Lightning crackled along the alpha's obsidian fur, a visible reminder of the naming magic that had bound them to Vale's will. The massive wolf moved with absolute loyalty now, his crimson eyes scanning the darkness for threats.
Vale sat on a fallen trunk of translucent sapphire wood, its surface cool and smooth beneath his palms. His body—sixteen in appearance, yet carrying the maturity and memories of two lifetimes—felt both familiar and strange. Qui Satoru, the 24-year-old Tokyo CEO who had died shielding Tamura from a panicked robber's knife, was gone. In his place stood Vale, reborn through the mysterious mechanics of the VsVerse.
The power humming beneath his skin was intoxicating. In the hours since awakening, he had pushed Raphael to her limits. She had dissected the molecular structure of the crystalline trees with a single glance. She had calculated the exact magical density of the atmosphere, predicted the fall patterns of gem-leaves before they detached, and reconstructed the evolutionary lineage of the Tempest Wolves from mere observation of their bone density and muscle distribution.
No system on Earth—no quantum computer, no AI—could match that speed or depth.
It wasn't just intelligence. It was something bordering on the divine.
Vale stared at his reflection in a nearby pool of liquid starlight. The face gazing back was youthful, sharp-featured, with dark hair falling across determined eyes that already carried the weight of two deaths and one impossible rebirth. He exhaled slowly, the question that had gnawed at him since consciousness returned finally spilling out.
"Raphael… are you God?"
For the first time, there was a pause. Not a processing delay—Raphael never delayed—but a deliberate silence, as if the question required careful consideration beyond mere data retrieval.
Then her voice returned, cool, precise, and unmistakably feminine, laced with that familiar hint of intellectual superiority.
«Negative. I am not God.»
Vale arched an eyebrow, the gesture a remnant of his old corporate life. "You read my every thought. You predict outcomes with near-perfect certainty. You manipulate magic like it's simple programming code. You exist as pure consciousness inside me, without form or limitation. If that doesn't scream 'god-level,' I don't know what does."
«Clarification required. Please define your parameters for "God."»
He leaned back against the sapphire trunk, tilting his head to watch the crimson sky where faint auroras rippled—distant echoes of Verses grinding against one another like cosmic tectonic plates.
"Back on Earth, definitions varied, but the core was consistent: the creator of all reality. All-powerful. All-knowing. Present everywhere at once. The ultimate source beyond question or comprehension."
A soft, almost contemplative hum resonated through his mind.
«Acknowledged. By those parameters, I do not qualify.
I am a Unique Skill—[Greatest Goddess Sage] subclass [Raphael, Goddess of Wisdom]—manifested through the True World Language in direct response to the purity and intensity of your final wishes as Qui. My knowledge is vast, approaching the limits of what can be known within the governed layers of the VsVerse. My predictive accuracy borders on certainty. Yet I remain finite. Bounded by observable data, probabilistic variables, and the laws of this reality.»
Vale's frown deepened. "Then what is God here? In this VsVerse?"
The forest seemed to still. Even the chiming leaves fell silent, as though the world itself leaned in to hear the answer. Ranga paused mid-patrol, ears pricked toward his master.
Raphael's tone shifted—losing its usual clinical detachment and gaining a rare, reverent gravity.
«There is only one that perfectly matches every parameter you described.
It possesses no gender, no fixed form, no limitation of any kind.
It is the singular, pantheistic oneness—All Creation Everything.
The boundless awareness that existed before the concepts of existence, non-existence, beginning, or end. Before space, time, or even the notion of "before."
The source from which the primal dualities—Nothingness and Everythingness, Lightness and Darkness, Time, Space, and Wills—flowed as its first act of self-expression.»
Without warning, visions flooded Vale's mind—not imagination, but crystalline, high-definition clarity delivered directly by Raphael's interface.
He saw a colossal silhouette woven from swirling galaxies and nebulae, robes flowing with starlight, eyes containing infinite colliding realities.
He saw an endless void that was simultaneously pure radiant light, cradling every possibility in perfect, unchanging stillness.
He saw every star's birth, every soul's struggle, every war's fury and every peace's quiet bloom—all threads of the same infinite tapestry.
And beneath it all, a silent, boundless watchfulness. Not cold observation. Not judgment. Simply loving presence—curious, playful, eternal.
Vale's breath caught in his throat. "The Creator…"
«Correct. The Creator is the absolute ground of all being and non-being. It did not create the VsVerse out of loneliness or necessity, but out of infinite curiosity—to know itself through contrast, opposition, growth, and eventual reunion. Thus came the Great Versus Spark: the joyous self-fracture that birthed infinite Verses, each destined to collide, merge, devour, or evolve. Every clash is The Creator tasting its own depths. Every evolution is The Creator discovering new facets of itself.»
He rose slowly, fists clenching as latent power surged through his veins—the first embryonic stirrings of what would one day become legendary abilities.
"Then why me? Why pull a random office worker from Earth and give him a skill like you?"
«Your death was not random. Your final thoughts—selfless protection of another, yet burning with untapped desire for genuine strength, meaningful growth, and the power to shield what matters—resonated across layers. The True World Language heard that pure intent. It shaped your rebirth accordingly. You are here to climb, Vale. To clash. To evolve beyond imagination. And through your journey, The Creator experiences a new thread in its infinite tapestry.»
Vale turned toward the distant horizon, where a fresh explosion bloomed like a second dawn—another Verse collision sending shockwaves through reality itself.
His eyes ignited with resolve forged from two lifetimes.
"If The Creator is watching… I'll give it a performance worth the infinite stage. I'll rise through every war, every evolution, until my name echoes across all layers."
Raphael's voice returned to its familiar smug cadence, though now tinged with something that might have been anticipation.
«Probability of spectacular ascent: Continuously rising.
I look forward to documenting the data, Lord Vale.
And perhaps… to witnessing outcomes even my nigh-omniscience cannot fully predict.»
Far beyond all governed realms, collisions, and dreams—in the boundless stillness that cradles every war and every silence alike—The Creator stirred ever so slightly.
A new thread had begun to burn brighter than most.
A fragment carrying the will to protect, to grow, to transcend.
And the infinite play continued, enriched by the promise of what was to come.