Daniel didn't remember deciding to leave.
One moment he stood on the glowing ridge, watching the first beings of his world take uncertain steps.
The next—
Reality folded.
The sky turned inside out.
And he was falling through light.
He landed on his bedroom floor.
Hard.
Air rushed into his lungs like he'd been underwater. The familiar darkness of his apartment wrapped around him, broken only by city light through the window.
Daniel gasped and rolled onto his back.
"…I'm home?"
His clothes were dry.
No wind.
No twin suns.
Just Earth.
He bolted upright.
"The world—"
He held out his hand instinctively.
Space shimmered.
A circular window opened in the air — smooth this time, stable. Like glass made of reality itself.
Through it, he saw the violet sky.
His world.
He rushed closer.
The beings he created were still near where he left them.
"They barely moved," he murmured.
Time flows differently across dimensional layers, the Core explained.
Daniel frowned. "How differently?"
One of the beings below bent down, picking up glowing grass, studying it.
Daniel glanced at his digital clock on the wall.
12:14:08
He looked back through the window.
The being stood up.
Turned.
Walked three steps.
Daniel looked at the clock again.
12:14:09
He froze.
"…No way."
He stared back into the dimension.
Clouds drifted.
Light shifted.
The beings moved slowly, naturally.
Daniel whispered, "How long just passed there?"
One full rotation of the primary suns approaches.
"A day?!" His voice cracked.
Yes.
Daniel staggered back.
"One day there is one second here?!"
The weight of it hit instantly.
"They'll live entire lives while I stand here…"
He turned back to the window, heart racing.
The landscape was already changing.
Plants grew taller. Light-rivers carved deeper paths. The beings began forming small groups.
One helped another climb a slope.
They were learning cooperation.
Daniel's voice softened.
"They're adapting…"
Life accelerates in young dimensions. Evolution is rapid when laws are fresh.
He watched as one of the beings pointed toward the sky — toward the place where he existed beyond their sight.
A group gathered, staring upward.
"They feel me," Daniel said.
You are woven into their reality.
Minutes passed for him.
Days passed for them.
He watched structures form from woven luminous plants. Simple shelters. Patterns in the ground.
"They're building…"
Awe replaced fear.
"I could watch civilizations rise from here."
Yes.
"…And fall."
The Core didn't answer.
Daniel leaned closer to the window.
"They don't know I'm just… a guy in an apartment."
To them, you are the sky.
That sentence hit deep.
He watched as one of the smaller beings stumbled and fell from a rocky ledge.
Others rushed to help.
It moved again, alive.
Daniel exhaled in relief.
"I feel everything that happens there," he realized quietly.
Because their existence is tied to your will.
His gaze darkened.
"So if I lose control… if I panic…"
Their world trembles.
Silence filled the room.
On Earth, a car passed outside.
Inside the window, seasons shifted.
Daniel stepped back slowly.
"I can't just treat this like an experiment."
No.
He looked at his trembling hands.
"I have to grow up fast… don't I?"
Creators do not get childhood.
He turned back to the window.
A settlement had formed.
Fires of soft blue energy burned at its center.
The beings gathered around it, looking up at the sky together.
Waiting.
For something.
Daniel felt it — like a tug on his chest.
"They're trying to reach me."
Yes.
"…Can I answer?"
A pause.
That choice changes everything.
Behind him, his phone buzzed on the table — a normal world calling him back.
In front of him, an entire civilization was being born.
Daniel stood between two realities.
For the first time, he understood:
Power wasn't the hard part.
Balance was.