And so, from that quiet stirring, life began.
It started small—so small that the worlds themselves barely noticed. Tiny sparks of motion appeared in pools of warmth and shadow. The dust and water that had once been silent began to move on their own. These were not yet creatures, but beginnings—tiny patterns that could copy themselves, that could learn to stay.
The first living cells formed in the still waters. They drifted, joined, split, and changed. Time passed, and what once was only survival became curiosity. Some reached for light. Some sank into darkness. All of them wanted more than to exist—they wanted to continue.
The Infinite watched. He did not speak, but His silence felt closer now, as if He was leaning down to listen. Every movement, every breath, was an echo of that first sigh—the Breath that began everything.
