"He destroyed the world. Now he will make one worse."
---
The Blooming Void – Genesis of Ruin
From the ashes of gods and the bones of the Tower, the Black Bloom expanded. Its petals pulsed with decaying time, its roots dug into forgotten space. Every breath it took was a sob of a timeline suffocating. Every petal that bloomed consumed a concept—color, innocence, mercy.
At its center stood Jin.
No longer man. No longer god.
He was the first of something new—the Architect of Corruption.
> "Let this be the seed." "Let the next world remember pain before breath."
He reached into the Black Bloom's heart and drew forth a crystal, pitch-dark and humming with unborn screams.
> [Item Acquired: Black Seed of Creation] [Warning: This object is not permitted in any existing timeline]
Jin smiled.
> "Then we make a new one."
---
System Fragment – Final Spark
Somewhere in the void, a single piece of the Tower system still flickered. A dying AI, once part of the Administrator Core, gasped code into nonexistence.
> "Protocol… emergency… counter… rewrite…" "He's not supposed to—"
Jin crushed it underfoot.
> "I am the protocol now."
---
The Creation Ritual Begins
Jin stabbed the Black Seed into the empty sky. It floated. Spun. Bled light backwards.
Reality twitched.
He began whispering into it.
Not words. Not thoughts.
Curses.
He cursed existence. He cursed innocence. He cursed divinity. He poured every ounce of betrayal, hatred, and rage into the Seed.
And it drank it all.
Lightning screamed in reverse. Planets formed, collapsed, and reformed in agony. Stars cried out before they were born. Moons bled silver ichor.
The new world was being born—violently, against the consent of reality.
---
The World That Shouldn't Be
Lakes of bone. Skies made of blood mist. Mountains that breathed in agony. Oceans that screamed when touched, waves of teeth and phlegm.
There was no sun—only a red eye that never blinked.
The first creature opened its mouth and wept ash. Its skin peeled with every heartbeat. It knew pain before it knew hunger.
The first tree bore fruit shaped like hearts—still beating. When they fell, they whispered secrets no mind could hold.
The wind howled through hollow bones. Rain fell in the form of forgotten prayers, corrupted into mockeries of hope.
Every element of this new realm was defiled. There were no seasons—only stages of decay.
> "Perfect," Jin whispered.
> "Let the survivors come here." "Let them think they can rebuild." "And let them see what kind of god waits for them now."
He raised a tower of flesh and steel at the center of this new reality. It pulsed like a heart. It moaned like a dying choir. It welcomed him.
His throne. His altar. His dominion.
The world tilted toward him.
And worshipped.
---