Orion floated in the sky like the gravitational center of the world.
Around him, the heavens seemed clearer, more vivid. No wind stirred at that height—only the soft vibration of the atmosphere bowing in reverence. Gravity itself hesitated to touch him, as if comprehending the magnitude of his existence.
Motionless, contemplative, Orion absorbed it all. The universe whispered to him. He listened.
There, above everything and everyone, there was no hurry—only decision. Eternity held no urgency.
Below, a mountain range of colossal dimensions stretched as far as the eye could see—wild, ancient, untouched. Peaks rose proudly, as if bearing the shoulders of slumbering titans. Trees dozens of meters tall blanketed slopes and valleys, trunks draped in golden moss, leaves pulsing with vital energy. Every inch of the forest felt alive. Not merely in the common sense—but conscious. Ancestral.
This was a land belonging to no map, no empire, no lineage. A territory where even the mightiest would hesitate to tread. Yet, at this moment, it seemed... waiting.
Orion felt the call. He understood everything. His new body, his new mind—tuned to creation's very code.
Eyes half-lidded, as if gazing upon a distant memory, he murmured:
"A place like this... does not exist by chance."
His ice-blue eyes glowed, piercing the world's layers. Between mountain roots, he saw the energy veins sustaining the continent. Primordial essence channels. Rivers of hidden power flowed like light beneath the earth—a spiritual artery of the planet.
"Perfect."
With a slight wave, space before him curved gently. Orion closed his eyes briefly. Memories of ancient Celestia—trenches, sacrifices, lost cities—drifted like storm clouds. The past no longer defined him, but it shaped him.
Here, before the wild expanse, a new word formed on his lips:
"Empire."
Then the transformation began.
Orion descended slowly, floating toward a specific point at the mountain range's heart. His feet never touched ground, yet his presence marked it eternally. He extended a hand, like a painter before a blank canvas, and whispered.
"From destruction..."
The planet answered. Earth trembled. Mountains shuddered, foundations roaring like wounded beasts. Millennia-old trees dissolved into golden particles, vanishing like stardust. The once-untouchable forest now surrendered to Orion's supreme will. Each vanishing particle returned to the planet's essential flow—no pain, no violence. An offering to creation.
Beneath him, absolute void formed. Vast, barren ground—like a newborn world's first surface.
Orion lowered his hand. His voice, weighted with the authority of one who'd transcended time and form, rang clear.
"...comes creation."
『Building the Empire...』
『3...』
『2...』
『1...』
Silence.
Then—light.
From emptiness, buildings rose. The ground quivered as matter bent to its creator's will. Solid energy blocks surged from the depths, shaping into structures of unbelievable beauty. Every pillar, every wall, emerged with unwavering precision.
At the center, a colossal palace took form—so tall it brushed the clouds. Towers spiraled skyward like lances of golden light. Walls pulsed with living gold, interlaced with crystals that captured sunlight and cast dancing rainbows. Here would be Orion's throne. Here his divine will would resonate.
Around the palace, avenues sprouted—traced with lines precise as cosmic veins. Temples rose, each dedicated to an aspect of universal law: time, space, matter, spirit, essence. Dimensional portals shimmered at intersections, awaiting future worlds.
Colossal arenas emerged on the horizon—domes of pure cosmic diamond, where whispers of eternal battles already echoed. Dust had barely settled, yet destiny had anointed them with blood of legends yet unborn.
Streets, forged from black mineral threaded with silver and blue veins, seemed to pulse. They were conduits of primordial energy—carrying not just travelers, but meaning.
At key points, library towers stood like sentinels of knowledge. Ancient manuscripts, scrolls of forgotten realms, techniques born of dead civilizations—all imprinted in reality's weave. Statues stood at crossroads, depicting heroes not yet born.
Above it all shone a single star—directly over the palace. No ordinary star—the empire's spiritual core. An infinite wellspring of cosmic energy. A sun that would never die. Orion hadn't built mere structures. He'd forged an idea. A purpose.
As he gazed upon his work, the heavens held their breath.
『DING』
『Eternal Empire Subsystem Created』
A panel materialized before his eyes. Details flowed like divine data. But Orion didn't touch it. He watched. Smiled. Golden light glinted in his scarlet hair as he hovered silently above his creation.
He remained suspended, wrapped in sacred silence. The newborn empire sprawled below—a colossus of structure and purpose, every detail a reflection of his mind. Palace domes blazed with perpetual sunlight. An aura of absolute reverence enveloped the city—untouched by mortal presence.
The breeze here was unusual. Every gust seemed to whisper Orion's name. He drifted slowly over the main cosmic avenue. Energy vibrated beneath him, as if the empire recognized its creator.
Passing the immortal academies, their foundations hummed. They'd been shaped not just to train bodies and cultivation—but to forge will. Meditation chambers were unfathomable. Some connected directly to the primordial void—where time and form ceased. A cultivator daring to meditate there would break their limits... or shatter their mind. A place rewarding audacity—and punishing hesitation.
Orion paused above the academy's central dome. His gaze turned pensive—as if his mind raced through a thousand future scenarios, a thousand fateful variations.
"Here... heirs of the laws will be born. Masters of tomorrow. Kings of tomorrow. Gods of the afterlife."
He turned north, where immense library towers touched the horizon. Within them, manuscripts unwritten by human hands lined shelves of celestial obsidian. As if the cosmos itself had etched its mysteries onto those living walls. No dust. No silence—only knowledge pulsing. The constant vibration of universal laws in word-form.
He approached one tower. The entrance, guarded by two light golems, slid open before him. Orion hovered at the threshold, sensing wisdom transcending existence itself. Not time to enter. Not yet. The towers were ready—but their readers hadn't been born.
He turned south—to the true proving ground: the Eternal Battlefields. Circular arenas, vast as craters, linked in chains. Each had distinct climates, gravity, rules. Some connected to elemental planes; others to chaos zones where natural laws deliberately failed—demanding extreme adaptation. At each arena's heart floated a black or golden energy core—fragments Orion drew from black holes or collapsing stars. Sources so ancient they had no name. Here the mightiest cultivators would be forged—not just in strength, but essence.
"On this soil, true kings will fall..."
"...and true kings will rise."
He looked down at the streets—now stretching kilometers, patterned like cosmic mandalas. Sacred symbols were embedded within, visible only to those with heightened perception. Every intersection had its own vibration. Every plaza, a distinct aura. These paths were more than routes—they were trails of enlightenment, guiding not just the body, but the spirit toward transformation. Even the wind seemed disciplined, bending to sacred geometries carved into stone.
At the heart of main squares stood statues of Unborn Heroes: unknown figures, yet inevitable. Crafted from future possibilities. They honored not the past—but destiny. Orion stopped before one—a warrior in shattered armor gripping a spear etched with an ancestral dragon. His face lay shrouded, as if identity awaited history's perfect moment.
"Possibility will become reality. All these names, these forms... will be born here. Under my gaze."
He floated back to the palace summit. From there, he saw all: academies, arenas, portals, libraries, streets. A living organism. A divine symbol. An eternal kingdom.
『DING』
『Empire Management Panel Available』
『Name the foundations of power?』
Orion crossed his arms, thoughtful.
"The root of all shall be Balance."
He named the empire's four pillars:
Immortal Wisdom—stored in cosmic libraries.
Unbreakable Will—forged in academies and battlefields.
Divine Ascension—through dimensional portals.
Eternal Truth—sealed within the Throne Halls.
The words etched into the empire's essence. Structures now obeyed these laws. Trials, teachings, rewards—all flowed from these foundations.
Orion raised his hand. Four pillars of light speared the sky—one for each pillar. Piercing clouds, they tore through space's layers, leaving visible scars on the cosmos. From that moment, every sentient being in the multiverse felt it: something undeniable had been born. A spiritual center of gravity. An inevitable convergence point.
Orion lowered his arm. Silence held him. His ice-blue eyes fixed on the heavens one last time before closing.
"Let the worthy come."
Then he vanished—like dust in the wind.