Chapter 9: Ch 9 : Dawn of a New Age

Sunny held the vibrant yellow fruit he had purchased from the Trading Platform. He bit into it, finding its taste surprisingly sweet and pure, far better than any fruit he remembered from the Blue Planet. "Well, what did I expect?" Sunny mused to himself, savoring the moment slowly. "These fruits, unlike Blue Planet's, aren't made using chemicals or produced in pollution." Just then, as he finished the last bite, he noticed a single, small seed nestled within the fruit's core. His eyes widened slightly, a spark of divine inspiration. "A single seed? It's enough under 10,000x time and 10x evolution rate," Sunny thought, already formulating a plan. He used a fraction of his Faith points to carefully bury the seed in a fertile location on his nascent land, planting the potential for a new species. He didn't dwell on it, maintaining his pragmatic divine approach. "If it grows, it's good; if it doesn't, it doesn't matter." He was now waiting for his Faith points to reach 20+ again so that he could purchase The Microbial Diversity Pack (C-Grade), an essential safeguard against future biological misfortunes and a vital component for a healthy, resilient ecosystem. Time ticked by slowly for the Gods in their ethereal realms, but for their planets, driven by cosmic energies, it was an entirely different thing. Days, weeks, and even months of planetary evolution could unfold in what felt like mere moments to a deity. As Sunny patiently observed Veridia's steady growth and his Faith's gradual replenishment, the cosmic channels of the God Chat offered a constant, chaotic, yet often informative glimpse into the diverse lives, and challenges, of his fellow nascent deities. In one particular sector of the universe, a burly man, his face framed by a full beard and his muscles bulging like a seasoned bodybuilder, wore an unkind smile that rarely touched his eyes. His planet was a swirling inferno, a landscape of raw power with no trace of blue oceans or green forests; only molten lava and towering volcanoes dominated. Yet, in these lakes of superheated rock, countless small, fiery-red fish-like creatures flowed and shimmered like exotic koi in water. The forms of these beings were sometimes solid, sometimes ethereal, the very living spirits of the fire element. "Just wait, Kitsune, I will tear you to shreds," growled the speaker, a voice rumbling with the deep, vengeful fury of magma flows. This was Vulcan, a God consumed by a deep, burning enmity for Kitsune. He had been thoroughly scammed by her early on in the competition. He might have accepted the loss, blaming his own foolishness, if Kitsune had at least provided him with accurate information. But the data she had supplied was outright false, a deliberate deception. It was only thanks to his unique, inherent talent, a divine gift of the forge and elemental command, that he was able to form these incredibly resilient fire spirits in the first place, allowing him to claw back from the brink of total failure. His grudge festered, a constant, smoldering fuel for his divine will, shaping his very existence. In another distant corner of the universe, a handsome young man, with spectacles perched thoughtfully on his nose, meticulously observed his planet. It was a vibrant world, filled with lush greenery and shimmering expanses of water, bearing a striking resemblance to the long-lost Blue Planet. "Finally," he exclaimed, a quiet, almost intellectual satisfaction in his voice, as he watched his first arthropod slowly scuttle across the verdant land. This was the God previously noted for his sharp insight into the System's inherent hierarchy, Strategist. Though no God with a talent greater than S-grade had yet explicitly replied to his earlier comments about talent tiers, he remained absolutely certain that Gods with SS and SSS-grade talents existed, their true powers and identities hidden from the general, boisterous chat. "It is not as fast as Kairos, but it will surely be better than others. Just wait, my wisdom will surely surpass you," Strategist murmured, his gaze fixed on a creature that strongly resembled an iridescent beetle, already displaying a surprising, almost intuitive ingenuity in navigating its complex environment. His confidence was quiet, intellectual, a stark contrast to the bombastic declarations of Kairos. He believed in the power of calculated evolution, not just brute acceleration. On yet another distinct planet, a fat, otaku-looking man screamed in exasperation at some primitive algae. "Why are you building yourself a house? Just do your job and evolve, please!" he pleaded, pulling at his unkempt hair with both hands. His unique talent, B-Grade Builder, inherently made 30% of his lifeforms naturally adept at construction. The unintended, often maddening, side effect was that even the most primitive algae in his world were obsessed with forming intricate, if utterly useless, structures. This was Bastion, a God perpetually frustrated by the unpredictable and often counterproductive manifestations of his own divine blessing. From a place beyond the sight of the squabbling, boasting, and trading Gods, a figure of profound majesty sat enthroned. This man was seated upon a celestial throne, not merely crafted from rock or wood, but intricately woven from a shimmering cosmic alloy. It was interlaced with the fossilized remains of extinct, mythical beasts—a colossal dragon's skull here, the magnificent, hooved foot of a Qilin there. Each bone was not merely a relic, but a monument to a life passed under his watch, a testament to his future dominion over all creation and decay. His very presence radiated an ineffable divine glow, a transcendent charm that far surpassed mortal beauty and remained utterly unmatched by any other deity. His every movement was imbued with a quiet grace and a boundless power that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of space. He was currently looking at Veridia from his seat in the cosmic void, a slow, profound, and knowing grin spreading across his face. The passage of time for him was a blur, a mere footnote to his vast, unfolding eternity. "Finally," he declared, his voice a low, resonant chord that vibrated through the cosmic fabric, a decree that marked a momentous turning point for his world. "A mammal." He was none other than our Sunny, destined to be known across the multiverse as God Cosmos, and the first grand step of his ambitious design had just been triumphantly completed. "This throne is good for style," Sunny said, a flicker of satisfaction passing through his divine form as he placed his hands upon its sculpted handrest. It was an ethereal construct, a product of countless experiments performed in his rare moments of divine leisure, where the boundaries of creation seemed to dissolve into pure will. He understood now that he could use his boundless imagination to instantly manifest anything he desired, crafting objects of any material without any cost—a truly limitless canvas. However, he also noted the crucial caveat: if he lost direct contact with the object, it would simply vanish, dissolving back into the primordial cosmic energy from which it was formed. "But this is not the most important thing," Sunny exclaimed, his gaze fixed upon a rat-like creature scurrying on four legs, its long tail twitching as it navigated the newly complex terrain of Veridia. It was small, primitive, yet undeniably a mammal. "In five hours? Even Kairos took more than two hours for his arthropods to reach their level of complexity. If we look at this perspective, it would have taken me twenty hours," Sunny mused, genuinely surprised by the unprecedented acceleration in his world's evolution. This remarkable speed wasn't solely due to Veridia's inherent evolutionary drive; it was a direct consequence of Sunny's relentless, focused divine intervention. In these crucial two and half Godly hours (which had passed since his clearance of last misfortune), he hadn't been sitting idly by. He had swiftly accumulated enough Faith to purchase the Microbial Diversity Pack (C-Grade), introducing a wide variety of beneficial microbial lifeforms into Veridia. This influx of unseen life had dramatically accelerated early ecosystem development and nutrient cycling, creating a super-fertile ground for rapid and complex evolution. Beyond that, he had continually channeled his Faith to enhance countless genetic codes, subtly nudging organisms towards new forms, encouraging the development of legs, tails, ears, and rudimentary noses – the very traits defining this nascent mammal. He was actively sculpting evolution, rather than merely observing it. Yet, he understood his limitations. He couldn't simply use his divine power to transform these primitive mammals into humans or even human-like beings for two profound reasons. First, the Faith cost was astronomical. To accelerate and guide the intricate genetic pathways from a primitive mammal to a sapient, human-like form would demand more than 10,000 Faith points, an amount that would take him approximately 10 Godly days or even more to accumulate. Second, his current knowledge of genetics, while divinely enhanced, was not absolute. To pinpoint and manipulate each specific gene, to weave the intricate tapestry of a highly complex species, would require immense time and concentrated effort. Even guiding the evolution of this first mammal to its current rat-like form had consumed two and a half Godly hours of his absolute, concentrated presence within Veridia. "Three years of hard work finally paid off," Sunny sighed, a touch of weariness in his divine form, even as satisfaction swelled within him. Though for him it had been just a few intense Godly hours of focused creation, in Veridian planetary time, a staggering three years had already unfolded, culminating in this single, incredible achievement.