The sky screamed without sound.
The black tear above stretched wider, swallowing stars, dimming one of the twin suns. Darkness didn't spread like shadow.
It erased.
Clouds that touched it simply vanished — not torn apart, not burned.
Deleted.
Daniel's legs shook.
"I don't know how to fight that!" he yelled.
You do not fight as mortals do.
The Genesis Core's voice was steady, immense.
You command existence.
"That's not helpful!"
The ground beneath his feet began to crumble into floating fragments of light.
The world he made was coming apart.
Focus. Creation responds to intention, not fear.
Daniel clenched his fists. "I am afraid!"
Then create anyway.
The blackness above pulsed.
"Correction required."
The words hit like gravity.
Daniel felt himself being weighed, measured — like reality was deciding he shouldn't exist.
"No," he whispered.
The warmth in his chest flared.
He grabbed it with his mind — not physically, but instinctively — like reaching for a muscle he never knew he had.
"Okay," he breathed. "Okay… if this world is mine…"
He looked at the sky.
"…then you don't get to touch it."
The symbol in his chest blazed white.
Time slowed.
Wind froze.
The falling fragments of land halted mid-air.
Daniel lifted his hand.
Not dramatically.
Just… lifted it.
"I don't know the rules," he said through shaking breath. "So I'll make one."
The air rippled outward from him in a circle of light.
"Within this dimension…"
His voice echoed with something deeper beneath it.
"…foreign forces are denied."
The words left his mouth and became reality.
Invisible lines shot across the sky like glowing veins, forming a vast geometric pattern that locked into place over the world.
The black tear slammed against it.
The impact didn't explode.
It stopped.
Like darkness hitting glass.
A shockwave of light blasted across the clouds.
Daniel fell to one knee, gasping.
"That— that worked?"
The Eraser's presence shifted.
Not anger.
Not emotion.
Assessment.
"Local laws modified."
The Core's voice rumbled with something almost like approval.
You have written your first Law.
Daniel stared upward in disbelief.
"I made… physics?"
You defined reality's boundaries. That is creation.
The blackness pressed harder against the invisible barrier. Cracks of void spiderwebbed across the sky shield.
Daniel felt it in his chest — like something pushing against his heart from the outside.
Sweat ran down his face.
"I can't hold this forever…"
Then evolve the dimension.
"What does that even mean?!"
Strengthen it. Add structure. Add balance. Creation must be layered.
The shield cracked louder.
Daniel forced himself to stand.
"Okay… okay… think."
He looked at the empty land, the unfinished sky.
"This world is too simple," he realized. "It's like a bubble. No foundation."
The Eraser pushed again. More cracks.
Daniel spread his hands.
"Then I give it one."
The ground beneath him glowed.
Mountains erupted in the distance, rising like the bones of the world. Oceans of liquid light poured into valleys. The sky deepened from violet to a rich cosmic blue.
Gravity stabilized.
Wind patterns formed.
Energy flowed in circuits across the land.
The dimension… solidified.
The shield in the sky brightened, no longer fragile glass — now a radiant dome.
The black tear shuddered.
"Dimensional resistance increased."
For the first time—
It began to withdraw.
The void shrank, folding back into nothing.
Light returned to the sun.
The sky healed.
Silence fell.
Daniel stood in the center of a newborn world, chest heaving, hands shaking.
"I…" He laughed weakly. "I just upgraded a universe."
You have taken your first step as a Dimensional Creator.
Daniel looked at his trembling fingers.
"I was just trying not to die…"
That is how all creators begin.
Far beyond the sky, in places Daniel couldn't see—
Something had recorded his existence.
And it was no longer alone in watching.