Chapter 4: My Brother

Inar was mesmerized. Her new appearance shimmered under the starlight, and the reflection on the white planet revealed her curious form: hair that shifted in an endless kaleidoscope of colors, eyes as deep as the cosmos itself, and translucent skin that glowed with the energy of the universe.

She laughed, twirling across the white ground. The sound echoed, playful, following her dance. The wind raced to join her, wrapping around her like an invisible ribbon. The light pulsed softly, casting her silhouette on the curved surface. Time and space were there as well—always present, always silent.

But as she spun, a familiar sensation returned. The void, no longer menacing, whispered a question that echoed through her mind:

"And now?"

Inar stopped twirling and gazed at the starry sky. What else could she create? What was still missing in that vast ocean of possibilities?

Then the thought appeared.

"I want someone. Someone like me."

The friends she had created were wonderful, but they were… part of her. Sound only repeated what she said. The wind, the light, the ground, and time existed in response to her games. They reacted, but never acted alone. Inar wanted someone who thought, questioned, laughed, argued. Someone who wasn't just an extension of her will.

— "I want a brother," — she whispered.

The word came naturally, as though it had always existed, waiting to be spoken.

Inar knelt, pressing her palms against the white ground. The particles of matter, which had once frightened her, now responded to her call with gentle ease. Tiny golden specks rose into the air, swirling and gathering before her.

— "Be free," — she said softly. — "Be yourself. You don't need to be perfect… just be."

The particles obeyed, merging and shifting into form. A translucent mist rose from the ground, outlining vague contours. Inar watched, curious and anxious.

The body came first—slender and fluid, like a substance woven from wind and light. The hair formed next, short and silver, glinting with hints of gold that flickered like candlelight. Finally, the eyes opened—two orbs of swirling starlight, mirroring the constellations above.

The figure blinked and looked around, confused. Its eyes met Inar's and lingered there.

— "Who are you?" — asked the voice, raspy and curious, brimming with innocent wonder.

Inar laughed, relieved and delighted. She extended a hand.

— "I'm your sister, silly," — she said with a wide grin. — "Now come on, we have a lot to create."

The figure stared at her hand, hesitated for a moment, then grasped it. The touch was warm and familiar, like holding a memory she never realized she had.

— "Sister…" — the figure repeated, testing the word. — "And… what's my name?"

Inar studied him. His hair shimmered, shifting with his emotions—silver when calm, gold when curiosity sparked through him. The colors reminded her of the light she had created to banish the darkness.

— "Lior," — she said, her voice certain. — "Your name is Lior. My light."

Lior smiled, and his hair flashed gold.

— "I like that name," — he said. — "Sounds… fun."

Inar squeezed his hand and spun him across the white ground. Lior stumbled, laughed, and tried to match her steps. The wind circled them, curious about the new companion. The sound vibrated, imitating their laughter.

Then Inar stopped and looked around. Her friends were there—space, time, sound, wind, light, ground. Watching. Always watching.

She raised her voice:

— "Hey!" — she called. — "If you ever want to be like me… like Lior… you can. Personhood is yours to claim."

Time trembled slightly, wind faltered, light flickered. It was an offer—a permission given to the forces she'd brought into existence. The concepts, once abstract yet alive, now had the freedom to become something more. To take on forms, voices, and wills.

But, for now, none of them stirred. Not yet.

Perhaps, one day, that would change.

Inar smiled, satisfied, and turned back to Lior.

— "Now… shall we play?"

— "Of course!" — he answered eagerly.

And together they ran across the white planet, spinning and laughing as the wind and sound raced to catch them. Above them, the stars shimmered, silent witnesses to this new beginning.

The child of the cosmos was no longer alone.

She had a brother.