I am Valuva.The being who knots infinity into time, and time into infinity.The unbreakable heart of the Void.The watchman of Light and Darkness.
Here, at the line where the three realms touch, I stand.Not fully inside the world—not fully outside it.I am the threshold.
The Void is mistaken for silence.But it is never silent.
It has a hum no human ear could bear for long.Not wind, not waves—more like something that doesn't exist grinding its teeth to become real.Sometimes it feels like whispering.Sometimes like a muffled laugh.If an ordinary human heard it, their bones would tremble and their mind would retreat.Because the Void is the shadow of existence itself.
Today that hum grew heavy.
For years I have watched the same flow:Countless beings in the Dark Realm struggle through their own darkness,and sometimes, they turn toward good.They reach out.They protect.They forgive.
Small kindnesses leave thin sparks.But great hope—the kind that saves a life, the kind that sacrifices everything—burns bright enough to awaken a universe.
Goodness is one energy.Only its density changes.A single drop can become an ocean.
That energy is drawn from the air,pulled into the Void, held there—then carried into the Light.The Void is a cup.And when the cup fills, it does not shatter…it gives birth.
The Light Realm began as an empty shape:a dark circle, a sealed box,darker even than the Dark Realm—as if "light" had forgotten how to be itself.But goodness from the Dark Realm slowly made it glow.Its border grew.Its breath deepened.Its sleep thinned.
Today, its sleep ended.
Two radiances approached from the Light Realm's edge closest to the Void.
First came the coolness of moonlight.Then the warmth of a rising sun.
They appeared together—their long, pale-blue hair flowing like the color of Light itself.One carried a noble serenity, silver-cold and calm.The other wore a golden-yellow brilliance like a solar crown.Their garments were regal, unmistakable, declaring who they were without a word.
Seluva — Queen of the Lunar Spirit.Soluva — Queen of the Solar Spirit.
We are ten.Ten special spirits. Ten kingdoms.Ten ancient friends.But at this threshold, these two appear most—because they are nearest to me.
Seluva studied the Void.Soluva searched the Light horizon.
I did not need to ask.They did not need to explain.
Seluva's voice was as still as moonlight settling on stone:
"Filled."
Soluva's voice was as certain as sunrise:
"Overflowed."
The Void trembled.All goodness gathered from the Dark Realm exhaled at once.And the Light Realm expanded like a living thing for the first time.
Without touching anything, I felt it:the threshold was opening.
"It begins," I said.
The Void split.
There was no sound—when the law of reality changes, sound becomes unnecessary.
A body was drawn from the fracture.Hands first—dark-skinned, weathered, strong yet plain.Then shoulders.A beard.A face.
He looked old.Not because time had worn him down—but because accumulation had shaped him.Hundreds of years of gathered goodness had molded this form.
He was fully human in shape.Not muscular, not a warrior carved from stone—but naturally sturdy, broad, enduring.
The Void closed.
He remained on his knees.His chest rose.A first breath.
With that breath, the Light Realm awakened.
Vekhir.The first human.
He could speak.But he did not know the world.He did not know hunting.He did not know fire.He did not know medicine.He did not even know the weight of destiny.
Inside him, only one flame lived:
1% Grace.No more. No less.The single share Light had placed in him.
Vekhir lifted his head.He looked at us.There was no fear in his face—only emptiness, and wonder.
His lips parted.His voice touched reality for the first time:
"Yo…""You…"
And then Light spoke.
Not with one mouth—but through a consciousness made of countless good souls.
A whispering so close it did not enter ears,but bones.Faint, intimate, persistent.
One main tone rose first.Then six more gathered around it.Seven Heaven Figures.Seven primal shapes of goodness.
Not all at once—but layered, folding over each other.
Among them, one was unmistakable, dominant:
Hope.Hope stood above the rest.
"Queen of the Eternal…""Protector of the Void…""Queen of the Eternity…""Balance…""Walk…""We are here…""You are not alone…"
As the voices multiplied, Vekhir's face tightened.He grabbed his head.Pain sliced through him.Even Light hurts when it comes too fast.
His breath broke.His eyes dimmed.
I stepped closer.At my side floated my sphere—a white aura around it,its surface pure white, its core pitch black.Time and infinity braided into one beautiful cosmic form—the shadow of my being.
I placed my hand on Vekhir's forehead.
A single touch.
The pain was drawn away.The voices fell silent—not gone, only withdrawn.What remained was the soft echo of Hope.
Vekhir looked at me.
"What…" he said."What should I do?"
I answered briefly—because the first teacher never stretches the first word.
"You will learn.You will not flee the voices.You will learn to use them."
Seluva and Soluva stood behind me.Their light held the quiet joy of a sacred beginning.
Soluva whispered,
"Light is expanding."
Seluva closed her eyes.
"It is waking."
I felt it too.
With Vekhir's arrival, the Light Realm would grow—opening its borders to millions of newborn planets.And within a few months, young adult humans would descend,filling those worlds—normal minds, new hearts, living breath.
And whether he wished it or not,Vekhir would become their leader.
Because the first human always sets the first direction.
Far above, a tiny spark appeared in the distant sky.A single drop of glow—as if announcing a new body, a new world.
Everyone looked on with hope.
And in that same breath,deep in the Dark Realm, something stirred.
It did not name itself.But its voice cut through the distance like a thin blade:
"…at last."
I felt it.Seluva's light cooled for a heartbeat.Soluva's aura sharpened for a heartbeat.
Then stillness returned.
Vekhir took his first step.
The universe began to grow with him.
And hope—for the first time—truly meant future.