Time since the asteroid hit Earth: ~500 million years (subjective to Aryan)
Aryan Ved floated among the stars.
Galaxies swirled gracefully now, lightyears apart, suspended in silence. The flawed sector still twisted in unnatural orbits — a scar written into spacetime.
Aryan had accepted it.
But he hadn't spoken in what felt like centuries.
> "Silence is important," he reminded himself. "It lets the universe settle."
Just as he began calculating the next step — the chemistry of organic complexity — a sudden flash exploded before him.
Blinding. Pure. Familiar.
> "Oh no…" Aryan muttered. "Not you again."
The **Light God** shimmered into form — not as a man, not as energy, but as something in-between. Radiating mischief like it was a cosmic law.
> "Hellooooo, Creator of Semi-Stable Messes!"
> The voice boomed, melodically. "I heard a rumor you accidentally baked a black hole souffle."
Aryan sighed.
> "It was a quantum imbalance. Not a... dish."
> "Sure, sure," the Light God chuckled, circling him like an orbiting moon. "First rule of creation: always blame the foam."
> "I made a choice," Aryan said. "To allow imperfection."
> "A bold move," the Light God nodded. "Most first-time gods try to sweep their mistakes under a dark matter rug. You? You left it out in the open. With a sign."
> "The universe should have consequences," Aryan replied. "Not just beauty."
The Light God paused, then hovered upside-down, glowing brighter.
> "Alright, Professor Spacetime. What's next?"
Aryan extended his awareness, showing images through pure thought: atoms bonding into molecules, carbon chains, the early complexity needed for cells.
> "Organic chemistry," he said. "The groundwork for life."
> "Ah yes. Life. The universe's attempt at becoming self-aware... and dramatic."
> "It will take another billion years," Aryan admitted. "I'll have to appear as entropy now — guiding chance without overpowering it."
> "Entropy? You're going in full silent mode again?" the Light God groaned. "Man, you're like the quiet kid at a universal party."
> "I am the party."
> "Touché."
They both floated silently for a moment — galaxies expanding behind them, stars pulsing like breaths.
Then, more gently:
> "You've done well, Aryan," the Light God said. "Many fail to get this far."
> "I didn't build perfection," Aryan replied.
> "Exactly. That's why you're winning."
The Light God winked — or at least made a ripple in the air like one — and vanished.
Aryan turned back to the galaxies.
Billions of years of entropy awaited.
Chaos would dance. Molecules would rise.
And life — simple, fragile, unpredictable — would crawl from the dust.
> "Let's see what you become," he whispered to the atoms.
**— End of Chapter 6**