Ultimate Start.

  “Many gods, in the start, made many.”

  This line came from the origin of the ultimate begin.

  Several gods created the first male, MAN, and the first female, GIRL—names which may have become the origin of the gender terms used today.

  In addition to them, they created Archer, Wisdom, Evar, and Evil.

  A total of six beings born at the dawn.

  They could step on flowers and walk around the garden without sin.

  They could urinate into the sea without judgment.

  It was a place where such things were allowed.

  As usual, they conversed, and among them, Evil and Wisdom wandered off to another place—

  marking what would later be seen as the beginning point.

  They found fish beneath the shadow of soaring seagulls above the sea.

  “How strange…

  Is it MAN? It doesn't look like him.

  Its face is stretched, distorted like MAN’s, but different. What is this creature?”

  In their ignorance, they mistook the fish and the birds for beings like themselves—showing their lack of understanding of identity.

  Was Wisdom failing to act as wisdom?

  No.

  “In the beginning, there was no wisdom.”

  That must have been the intended lesson.

  Because this was Genesis, foolishness was forgivable.

  A sacred kind of fool.

  Evil and Wisdom moved toward the sea as if pushed by instinct, attempting to grab the fish with their hands.

  They distinguished grass and seawater only by feel and vision.

  The gods stopped them.

  They showed the six the sea, telling them not to go there, but explained nothing.

  Even so, Evil and Wisdom, like disobedient children, snuck off again toward the coast.

  Their whereabouts afterward became unknown.

  Meanwhile—

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The remaining four discovered a massive, thick vine, a hybrid of plant flesh and snake tissue, woven together like living muscle.

  They carved wood and crafted sharp, solid gloves for each finger, like Wolverine's claws, and used them to pierce the vine as they climbed.

  To ascend, something had to be stabbed.

  As they went up and down the vine, they experienced a childlike dynamism.

  Even those who didn't feel the dynamism could not be exempt; it was a society where everyone had to feel.

  They were not yet society, but they were already forming its structure.

  As they climbed, they reached what seemed to be a ceiling like the sky.

  When they attempted to pierce it, the gods arrived and shouted:

  “What are you doing?

  You are desecrating the ceiling of divinity and blasphemy!”

  Then lightning struck from the heavens, knocking them off the vine.

  The vine ignited, forming a pillar of flame.

  Like flies scorched by heat, they fell, reduced to distant specks from the sheer height.

  All four died on impact.

  From that place, new, meaningful plants and living things began to bloom.

  Some beings consumed what had previously been a fruit no one cared for—the fruit of soul.

  One such being, the snake, was particularly obsessed with finding and consuming it.

  Its eyes glowed red.

  The corpses of MAN and GIRL were the only ones to be resurrected.

  Their foundations split and tore apart, causing them to fall to separate places.

  The gods, overwhelmed by the chaos, decided to create a new age—reality.

  They forged the primitive world.

  There, beings either killed indiscriminately or died of starvation.

  So the gods granted them reason.

  In less than a few hundred years—long before Jesus would appear—

  civilization developed enough to pull carts.

  Humankind reached a level of maturity to contemplate the gods.

  They created language,

  and assumed that language itself was divided into the sacred and the vile.

  But ultimately, the gods observed this:

  It wasn’t language that was divided,

  it was humans themselves—

  inherently split between the sacred and the corrupt.

  Some time later—

  The protagonist of this uncelestial scripture appeared.

  Pastral da Mondre.

  Known simply as Pastral.

  He began with agitation.

  “Is death sacred?

  When animals die, it is the killers who live.

  Surely, there are those who do not fear death,

  but take pride in it.”

  Whether he was drenched in evil was unclear,

  but he attempted to glorify death—when it was the death of others.

  Naturally, some ignored him.

  Some tried to argue.

  Some nearly struck back.

  That is the nature of society.

  Pastral had slightly exposed his forehead,

  his long brown hair flowing in waves (\~), thick and voluminous.

  His brown beard surrounded his upper lip and chin,

  thick enough to just barely—or fully—cover his collarbones.

  And a male.