Creation: A Scifi-LitRPG Worldbuilding Story

Walker stepped out of the metaphysical realm. Of course no actual steps were taken, rather a taller than average man with a shock of white hair sat in the stone chair of an empty office. His mind was aware, but his body wouldn't work for him as something unusual was happening.

When he had reached the first stage, a pulse had shot out of him into the immediate atmosphere. When he reached the second, one had fired into space itself, arcing across the 4th rendition. But the third was different. A fast pulse fired inward, starting from the ends of his body, and moving toward the area just below his chest. As it passed different spots within his body, they woke up, creating their own pulses in a cascading buildup of something he didn't truly understand.

Should Walker still have any holes within his soul, any leftover punctures in the truths of himself, it would have stopped there. However, the one bright thing that Morgan had provided was showing him how to clean up the last of his mental and emotional issues stemming from his past. It was time to move on.

Energy gathered from throughout his body after the starting shot. Small and unseen throbs growing in strength, bit by bit, with each starting as an out of sync drum in the chorus of his soul. But, as the power grew and they started to brush against each other, that began to change. One by one his outer pulses met and harmonized, finding a steady cadence with one another. Each increase in synchronization created a new pulse sent toward the center of his soul, building it into something. Beat by beat, shot by shot, Walker's soul created something new in the Evolver's Multiverse.

As the last of the nodes within him integrated harmonically, a final coordinated blast fired from the ends toward the center, shocking his body to action as he accidentally leaped out of his chair, breaking through the stone roof of his office and sailing out in a blur. He had pushed so hard that he escaped the atmosphere and into the darkness of space. Walker's Protocol shield had been destroyed with his use of the time strand, but that no longer seemed necessary as the third stage brought about its final change.

As he floated in the darkness of space, unravaged by the vacuum or cosmic radiation, he finally came to accept what Mr. Harrison had told him on his first day here. He was no longer a teacher.

Like a cauldron making its brew, he felt a strange bubbling his soul. Something was coming forth, and following his instincts he mentally reached out to it while saying, "Come on."

A transparent black corner began to exit from his chest, feeling like nothing at all. It continued it's journey, slowly emerging for the first time on the physical plane. To the outside perspective, it would look like it was floating on its own, but Walker knew differently. This was a direct manifestation of his soul, and was tethered to him as such.

He didn't get a small Icon, something flimsy that sat on his clothing, saying who he was to the world. No, Walker's was physically present and ready to be shown to any and all who saw him. It rotated as the last corner exited his body, letting him see the splendor of his hard-won work in the Tree of the Gods. The cover of the book held a a few small dots, no larger than a spec of dust, but slowly dimming and brightening back up. One was blue, while another larger dot was purple. In the center, the Grand Tree sat on the cover, and set forth the same forest green glow Walker's soul originally held.

"So, the Origin didn't completely overwrite my soul after all," Walker said to himself with a relieved smile. There had been a wiggling doubt in his mind that the Godeater program had somehow taken over and erased the value of who he was. His natural Green turning to the color of black pitch was something that had bothered him, though he'd never told anyone, preferring to keep the fear locked within. Seeing the green tree on the cover was a greater relief than he'd expected, and he felt some stress in his shoulders bleed away.

Thinking on it for a moment, he named the Icon, "The Book of Souls."

He looked away from the apparition of his soul, and felt a warm feeling come back from it. His eyes trailed down to Sonata, peaceful as can be, when he noticed something wrong. Walker's vision pierced the distance, finding blurs of speed moving around the moonlet. Had they been invaded? Were there creatures with unique abilities attacking his moonlet while he stared at the manifestation of his soul? No, something else was happening. There were too many blurs and no great damage that could be seen. He watched as the Tree of the Gods grew twice, growing all at once, then again, it's appearance slightly changing each time. Buildings formed and fell, before rising a second time with twice their original size. What was happening?

"The time dilation!" He screamed out, the last of his preserved oxygen leaving him at the shock of realizing he was no longer in the accelerated bubble.

Instinctively he reached out to his soul. Taking the black book into his hands, it began to give off a dark haze. He pictured what he wanted and his soul reacted. A trail of black with three colored streaks propelled him from space and toward the hole in his office. The acceleration would be comparable to a new sports car testing its engine for the first time. A slight hiccup and then he was gone.

Just as fast as Walker had left Sonata, he had returned, only time had gone on without him. He entered through the hole in the roof, his soul slowing his descent for minimal damage, before lightly touching on the ground. A series of notifications struck him, most having to do with Milestones that he put to the side. The two updates about the Tree of the Gods were worrying, but he'd have to deal with that later. He also found that his territory had upgraded for the first time, reaching the second tier and skyrocketing to the fifteenth level.

"There's no way there's that many people." He said to himself.

A cough at the door let him know someone was there, "During your second convalescence, we have been forced to make some changes."

Just from the diction used and pitch of the voice, Walker, who was currently looking at the Book of Souls, knew it was Virgil.

"I see you have gone though some yourself. Do you wish to speak about it?" Virgil asked as he fully stepped into the room.

Walker looked up and black eyes swirling in green met the giant squirrel's own, "What do you know about the System Administrator?"

Virgil paused in a half step, placing it down as his eyes searched Walker's own, "Only that they are an enigma. An unknowable entity whom no Assistant has ever spoken to."

"And if I told you, you're speaking to them right now?"

"You are the System Administrator?" Virgil asked with incredulity in his voice, "How? Hold a moment, that makes no sense."

Walker told him about what happened when he entered the bridge from the second to the third stage. He didn't hold anything back, trusting Virgil implicitly. He explained about what the Tree of the Gods really was, who was running it, what they told him of the war, and how they attempted to sabotage his transformation. He lifted the book and explained about the Godeater program, and the war. Finally, he ended on Morgan's death and the notification he'd received right after.

"I still do not understand. The System Administrator was within the Tree of the Gods all of this time?"

Walker nodded, "Didn't you find all of the unknown changes text strange? Everything in the system is defined, unless the council is making it up as they go." He added, "Now, we get to do...anything. I wonder if I could stop the Protocol entirely and just...separate us from them. Make our rendition an island."

Virgil didn't say anything for a moment, "Let me think on this please." He said before sitting in the chair across from Walker, Triton's blood long ago cleaned away by the pristine condition of the room.

Walker looked up, "Why did they leave the hole in the ceiling if they cleaned up everything else." He said, jutting his chin at a nearby wall Poseidon had once gone through, but was now fully repaired.

"Hephaestus said you might like it based upon your memories, give me a moment please."

Walker nodded, thinking of a sun roof, then waved a hand, "You're both right, sorry."

Virgil spent a long period of time staring at his screens, while Walker stared at his book. Eventually, deciding it was time, the Creator opened the cover to take a look inside. The first page had green filigree on the sides, and writing appeared as he looked at it.

Walker Reed, a man and the Creator of Symphony, started out as almost all do. He was born to two parents who preferred the quiet of solitude, yet felt the need to make a child. Their copulation brought forth an infant who was at once loved, but felt unloved in times of need. The juxtaposition of unlovingly caring by his parents forced a strange need into his heart....

"What the fuck?" Walker said as he looked away. The description of his life was a little too close for comfort. He knew himself extremely well, especially after reaching the third stage, but to have all of his old baggage he'd just come to terms with spelled out for the reader was extremely uncomfortable. The holes may be filled, but the scabs were still raw. The green page had a tab sticking out of the side of it.

Walker Reed: Creator, Origin Holder, Inherently Paradoxical

The next tab was a light blue.

Triton: Minor god of the sea, Son of Poseidon, Trident Master

Triton, son of the major god Poseidon and sea nymph Amphitrite, is the first born of the god of the sea. Raised to be the perfect image of a warrior and man by his father, he trained every day with the three-pronged weapon his father preferred, gaining mastery over....

Walker's vision faded out, and in its place he saw himself at the bottom of the sea, holding a Trident in his hand. Spreading his feet and angling his body, he thrust it cleanly through the water, gaining speed while attempting to balance the movement for maximum efficiency. At the end of the stab, he pulled back slowly, maintaining his form. His father had always said that form came before power, and he was determined to follow in his footsteps. He stabbed forward again, keeping his elbows tight and grip firm, then again. And again. Perfection was one step at a time.

Time rewound, showing Triton's birth, his first taste of breathing the sea, and his father laughing at his clumsy attempts in holding the weighty Trident of a man. Flashes of insight into Triton's training began to occur, speeding forward and showing Walker how the minor god had lived his life in a constant attempt to make his father proud. The difficult decisions that decided who a person was, critical life moments that showed what life under the sea had been like. It ended on a scene where his father patted him on the back just before going to meet their new Creator on a strange moon. They had plans here, and nothing would stop them if they worked together.

Walker found Triton's last thoughts before the vision faded. He was in a chair, the wind knocked out of him and in terrible pain.

We've made a mistake. Father didn't know that the Creator was some kind of...monster. A creature much more dire than the one we knew on Earth. At least...at least I held true to your vision, Father. Awakened....the Awakened must carry on.

Walker watched as his own large hands came close to Tritons face before the vision pulled out.

He fell to his knees as his lungs spasmed, the air around him feeling evasive and difficult to find. Virgil was speaking, but the words didn't make sense in his mind. How long had it been?

What the fuck was that? He thought to himself.

"I'm going outside." He said in a wheezing voice as his body finally started to calm down. Walker quickly stood up from the stone chair, larger than he remembered it, and stepped out of the office. When the door opened, a small grouping of people were waiting outside. Each gasped as they laid eyes on him, but he didn't have time to pay attention to them. He took a quick step and was gone, those waiting in line fading behind him as his feet quickly ate the ground in front of them.

When he felt like he was truly alone, he stopped, looking around. Sonata had grown again and would likely never be called a moonlet again, let alone moon. It was huge compared to the lands of Symphony, something he knew he would have to rectify soon if only because it would crash into his first world the moment the dilation ended. Come to think of it, he didn't even know how much time he had left in the dilation anymore.

More questions for Virgil. Now, what the fuck was that? He repeated to himself.

The book's first page had held his original soul's color, forest green. It told the story of his life. Only, he hadn't seen flashes of his own memory when he read it. It was just that, a page about him. Looking around he realized he'd left the book on his desk in the office, but as he thought about it, the edge jutted out of his chest and separated, floating in front of him.

Walker smiled down at the image of his soul, "Good book." He could feel it warm up when he said that.

Grabbing it and cracking open the cover, the green page of his life stared back at him. He turned it and found another green page behind it, only, one he didn't remember seeing before. Turning that one showed another. Each page appearing as he needed, with the former disappearing as he went to the next.

"Neat trick. So," He said, speaking to his own soul in a moment he was trying not to think of as strange, "show me Morgan."

After a brief pause, the book pulled out of his hands and turned to the deep purple tab on its own, then floated back to him. Walker caught it and read the tab.

Kwaya: System builder, Third disciple of Alma, Trickster

"Kwaya huh, what were you like?" Walker said to himself. He looked at the first page.

Kwaya was born quickly under a two-mooned sky. Her mother's labor had lasted only minutes, and she was abandoned to the fields of her birth just as quickly. A wandering merchant, unknowing of how his life would change, discovered the newborn after a particularly dismal amount of sales in the local villages...

Walker felt the story trying to grab him, but pulled his mind out before he could be sucked into Morgan's entire life.

"Don't do that." He admonished the Book of Souls. "I need to be able to decide if and when I'm going in, not yourself."

The black book in his hands darkly glowed for a moment, warmth accompanying the imagery. Walker took that to mean it agreed.

"So...you help me out with the captured souls of the Awakened huh?" He said, thinking quickly, "What else can you do?"

The Book of Souls pulled away and opened past the colored tabs and pages, growing to three times its size. It floated directly in front of him, pages melding and turning black as white text began to appear. Walker's overlay updated simultaneously.

 

Hello System Administrator Dante

You have a message from the former System Administrator

Would you like to read it?

 

The overlay and text from the book were superimposing over each other, making it hard to read. "Please just put all text onto the book in the future, and yes please."

 

My name's Kwaya and I'm Alma's third disciple.

I don't know who you are or what you're doing, but it doesn't really matter. If you're reading this, one of two things have happened. I either succeeded in destroying the Center of the Evolvers, likely dying in the process, or they've escaped my revenge and you're now here to pick up the pieces. Congratulations. Here's hoping you don't fuck up everything I've done.

The System Administrator role is designed to only be used by an Awakened. My second to last, FUCK YOU, to the Evolvers who enslaved me for however long it was. My first to last, I FUCKING HATE YOU, was what I did in the event of my death. I took all of the Sentinels, those beautiful killing machines that they spent so very long designing and training, and sent them to attack the Awakened in the Origin. Those screw ups thought that they had control over the Sentinels all this time, but of course, I tricked them. I slowly built my system to encompass their precious evolutions, allowing me control over them at need. It took a long time, and I wasn't able to control them all, but Teleportation has its uses.

Of course, I sent them in small groups, as I don't want the blood of my people on my own hands, but either way, the Evolvers are fully screwed.

The moment those Sentinels start to attack, the war is back in full. This is where you come in, my fucked successor. I'm not sure what 'verse I'll end up choosing, but if you're far enough in the line you might just survive. Eventually, the Awakened will tire of wiping out the Evolvers and go home, maybe. That'll be your chance. Your one shot, one opportunity, to lose yourself in the cosmos. Use the system, build yourself an escape hatch, and get the fuck out of town.

Now, I couldn't make it as easy as all that for you. There are intentional limits built into this. Things that are meant to take time to sort through, that way, I can make sure you don't go in and fuck up my plans. Before you complain, it's my death asshole, I get to say what the aftermath is, not you.

Enjoy, good luck, and fuck over the Evolvers any chance you get.

Also, the Tree is a bomb, in case I died before getting to hatch my plan. Just, you know, don't push the button. You'll see it.

 

"What a bitch." Walker said, finishing the reading. His soul threw him some warmth. "Okay, so, there's a button for a massive godlike tree bomb. Never seen it, never gonna see it, because I'm cordoning that thing off immediately." He said to himself, "But the limits on the system suck, there's gotta be a better...."

Walker looked at the purple tab in the book, a smile lighting up his face.