The Call Beyond the Sea
That night, when I closed my eyes, the Astral Plane called me back.
Not like before — not by accident or meditation.It invited me.The tether shimmered behind my eyelids, a silver thread humming with faint red code.
"Come, Child of Nihility," whispered a voice like wind through glass. "See what you can make from nothing."
I sighed. "If this turns into another near-death experience, I'm asking for overtime."
Kuroha's voice replied from the shadows.
"It's already overtime, partner. Let's go."
Arrival in the Astral Garden
We emerged on a floating island that shimmered like crystal dew.Flowers made of starlight bloomed across transparent soil.Every petal reflected constellations that didn't exist yet.
Ayaka appeared beside me, her illusion body glowing faintly pink. "Oh wow… it's like walking inside a dream made by angels who couldn't decide on a color scheme."
Kuroha padded forward, sniffing the air. "The Astral Garden. A place where lost ideas take root. Don't touch anything you don't want to grow."
"Noted," I said. "So… everything's alive here?"
"Everything's becoming," Kuroha corrected.
Seeds of Nothing
I knelt beside a patch of dying light—flowers wilting into black dust.The Nihility Fire inside me flickered, reacting. My palm burned faintly crimson.
"You feel that?" Ayaka whispered."Yeah. It's… asking for correction."
Instinct took over. I reached out, letting the fire flow—not to burn, but to rewrite.
Red runes bled from my fingertips, spiraling through the dying light.The ground pulsed—black, then gold, then pure white.
The wilted flowers stood tall again, shimmering brighter than before.And above them, in the air, faint Red Code text formed, glowing like scripture:
CREATION FUNCTION — ACTIVATED.Odin Protocol: Fragment I — Genesis Directive.
Kuroha's eyes widened. "You just used the Red Code as seed data."
Ayaka blinked. "You… coded flowers. Out of nothing."
I looked at my hand, trembling. "I didn't mean to. It just—happened."
"No," Kuroha said softly. "It answered you."
Language of the Gods
The runes stayed suspended in the air. I could read them — not as symbols, but as emotion.Each glyph carried intent: birth, growth, cycle.The Red Code wasn't just commands; it was a living language of creation.
I whispered a line aloud. The world responded instantly—light weaving into patterns, crafting shapes from memory: a tree made of stars, roots dangling into infinity.
Ayaka stared, eyes wide. "You're rewriting the Astral Garden."
"More like debugging it," I said, though my voice shook.
Kuroha circled the new tree, tails glowing. "Be careful. The Red Code isn't obedient—it's collaborative. If you don't define balance, it defines it for you."
"So… don't invent godhood by accident. Got it."
The Garden Speaks
As the creation stabilized, the tree's branches bent low.A soft voice echoed from its trunk, calm and ancient:
"He who writes life from void inherits the will of the forgotten."
The leaves fell as glowing feathers, drifting around us. One brushed Ayaka's hand; she gasped softly.
"It's warm," she said. "Like… gratitude."
The feathers dissolved into motes of light that scattered into the Sea below, planting new reflections across the horizon.
The Red Code Vision
Then the world froze.
Everything turned crimson.
My vision filled with streaming runes — lines of Red Code flashing across the sky, forming a colossal eye wreathed in flame.
"Fragment I: Genesis Directive. Verified host: Lumiel Valentine.""Access granted to Subroutine: Creation Layer."
Pain and awe collided through me. The knowledge flooded in — algorithms of life, the math behind emotion, the syntax of reality.
Ayaka's voice sounded distant. "Lumiel! Your eyes—!"
Kuroha stepped between us. "He's syncing with the Code. Don't interrupt."
The pain subsided. When I opened my eyes again, the reflection of that red script still danced across them, faint but alive.
"I can… feel every heartbeat in this realm," I whispered. "Every dream trying to be born."
Kuroha nodded. "You've awakened the first law of creation."
Return
When we returned to Celestara, dawn was just breaking.My hands still glowed faintly red, lines of code fading like veins of light.Ayaka watched me carefully. "So… you're a gardener now?"
"Of sorts," I said. "But my flowers think in binary."
She smiled. "Just don't plant anything that eats professors."
"No promises."
Kuroha flicked his tails, his tone serious beneath the humor.
"You've taken your first step toward rewriting existence. Remember — creation and destruction are siblings. Balance them, or you'll birth something the void envies."
I nodded slowly, staring at the sunrise through the glass towers."I don't want to play god," I said. "I just want to prove the void can bloom."
And somewhere deep in the Astral Garden, unseen but watching, the Red Code pulsed once — like a heartbeat waiting to answer again.