The eternal observer

The Supreme Creator existed before time, before space, before existence itself. His consciousness spanned millions of years, wandering through the infinite with no purpose, no direction. His power was absolute, his knowledge, unlimited. But with each passing era, eternity grew tiresome, and the void in which he resided lacked something fundamental: change.

Thus, in a moment of whim, he decided to create something new: the Five Domains. It was not an act of compassion nor necessity, but a mere experiment. He created a fragment, a multiverse with its own cosmology, a stage where stories could unfold freely. His intention was not to govern nor direct, but simply to observe.

From his throne beyond comprehension, he has seen countless fragments be born and die. Each with its own rules, its own gods and heroes, each with different versions of the Five Domains, of Azrael, and countless powerful figures. But this fragment was different.

Here, the Drakon sword existed, a creation that contained within itself the concept of Plotinus, the One. An immutable idea, an eternal presence within the sword, something that even he himself could not alter without undoing his own work. He planned it all carefully. He created the Four Realms and then let the story unfold, leaving fate in the hands of mortals and gods alike.

The world he shaped was surrounded by magical energy, an omnipresent force that flowed through all living beings. For the creatures of this fragment, magic was as natural as the air they breathed. However, in the Human Domain, his design had a peculiarity: humans were unable to perceive it, unable to comprehend it. Was it a mistake on his part? Or simply another detail added out of boredom? No one knows.

The Supreme Creator feels neither love nor hate for his creation. He has no favorites or chosen ones. He may appear at the most unexpected moments, but he never intervenes, for his only purpose is to observe. Sometimes he brings tragedy just to entertain himself; other times, he allows hope to arise, simply to see how long it lasts before it crumbles.

He is neither a benevolent god nor an evil entity. He is the absolute entity, the eternal observer. His will is the only unchanging law, and his existence is the only constant in a sea of ephemeral realities.

And although this fragment follows its own path, the Supreme Creator has already seen its end. Because, in the end, everything that is born is destined to fade, and when this fragment reaches its end, he will simply create another. And another. And another.

Because, after all... there is nothing more tedious than eternity.

He is a pure observer, someone who sees the development of his creations as if they were stories written on an infinite scroll. He does not interfere, for he has no interest in changing what happens. But when he does, it is only out of whim. He can cause suffering or bring hope with equal ease, not because he seeks a purpose in it, but simply to see how his creation reacts.

His overwhelming knowledge has led him to fall into a state of eternal boredom. He has seen everything, created everything, destroyed everything. Nothing really surprises him, but he keeps creating new fragments to avoid monotony. Still, he feels no attachment to anything he creates; each universe, each being, each story is just an experiment in an infinite sea of possibilities.

His sense of humor is strange, twisted, and often incomprehensible. He may sow chaos in a world just to see how the pieces fall back into place, or he may give a mortal inconceivable power just to observe what they will do with it. But, in the end, he does not care about the fate of his creations. When a fragment becomes boring, he lets it fade and creates another without hesitation.

Despite his omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotence, the Supreme Creator sometimes chooses to experience existence in a different way. Not because he needs to, but simply out of boredom. For this, he adopts physical forms within the fragments he has created, manifesting as any being he desires: man, woman, old man, child, or even an unknown creature.

However, this does not mean he limits his power or stops being the Supreme Creator. His true essence remains absolute, observing from outside the fragment, while his manifested form exists within it. It's as if a writer entered their own book without ceasing to be the author.

This process does not alter the balance of the universe nor break any logical law within the fragment. He does not interfere with his omniscience or his omnipresence, as his existence is everywhere simultaneously. His manifestation is nothing more than a projection of himself, an extension of his will that traverses the worlds out of simple curiosity.

When he adopts a physical form, he can interact with the inhabitants of the fragment, speak with them, witness events from a more limited perspective, and even participate in their stories. However, he never ceases to be himself. His essence remains intact, and if he wishes, he can undo his manifestation in an instant, without consequences.

Sometimes, he may go unnoticed, acting as a mysterious traveler or a secondary figure in the development of a fragment. Other times, he may take the form of an imposing figure. He never seeks to be worshipped or feared, only to observe in a more immersive way.

The Supreme Creator does not see his fragments as mere fictions nor his inhabitants as soulless characters. Every being, every god, every realm he has created is real. They are not mere fleeting thoughts nor stories written on a forgotten scroll, but authentic lives, with their own wills and unbreakable destinies.

The gods that rule the fragments are not illusions; they are true entities, with power and consciousness. Each world he has formed is not a simple game but the manifestation of creation itself. To him, everything that exists is real, as real as his own infinite essence.