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Chapter #3 — Kitty Goddess & Hairball
🕑 Added 2024-02-27 20:04:28 +0000 UTCThe All-Father grunted, disgruntled, as I followed Lysara like a lost dog. “Are you not going?” I inquired, but Odin simply shrugged. “There’s no reason. I already know how this will end. Better to enjoy my beverage than see yet another dream ruined.”
Biting back my objections, I stared at the feline Overlady and then at the All-Father. “I- How much for the drink?”
“Go, I’ll pay for it.” He waved, calmly sipping on his cup like a traumatized old man, which, in some ways, accurately described the God of Wisdom. ”How do I contact you in the future?”
“If we’re fated, we’ll meet again.”
The silence enveloped us, and Lysara rushed. “You coming or what, Fledging, Nyan~?”
I did not react, instead starring at Odin with a peculiar expression, “So… Find you here?”
“Aye, if you want to have a beer, ask Ïgal to pass me a message.” He waved nonchalantly, and despite my reservations, I decided to tail the Cat Goddess. We dashed outdoors, where crowds of Creators were wandering down the streets. Few appeared rushed, but every now and again, I’d see one or two Gods transform into bursts of light, blazing into the sky. “Why do they seem so hurried?”
Lysara yawned, “Their Universes are probably under attacks.”
“By Voidspawns?”
The Feline Overlady sent me the closest thing to a smirk, and added. “Or Deviants.”
“What exactly are Deviants?”
I could only assume based on the limited context I was provided, but it’s still a good idea to learn more about one of our Creators’ two biggest threats. “Deviants are dirty, vile animals that ruin everything pleasurable in order to fill the never-ending voids in their lives. They will locate Fledglings like you and mislead them into an eternity of slavery; the more hardcore ones will attack other Universes to steal the Great Truth, Nyan~”
I… I did not get it. From what I’d heard, Experiences were a fully passively producing currency; why would anybody want to take someone else’s? “Can’t they just create their own Universe?"
“They could, but they all pursued this ridiculous notion of: ‘The strong rules the weak’, Nyan~”
She tapped once, tearing a hole in the Space-Time fabrics of Omnipotent City. “We cannot do it here, Nyan~ It’s a breach of the law, Nyan~!”
Although I didn’t know exactly why, I could guess. Just as two planets or stars entered each other’s gravitational influence, they collide and create something new altogether. If our Creations operated similarly, establishing a Universe here would fundamentally violate and disrupt the rules of Omnipotent City forever, and I couldn’t imagine a reality where the other Creators or the Flying Spaghetti Monster would be happy with the result.
“You need to be in your head a little less, Nyan!” Something twisted around my waist, dragging me out of Omnipotent City and back into the infinite Void. “Look closely, I will not show you twice, Nyan~! I have been low on Creation Seeds lately, it’s all because of those mangy mutts and that useless Champion of mine, Nyan~!”
“Found the gal with the gambling problem…”
The Feline Goddess casted a baleful glance at me, nose upturned. “What was that, Nyan~?” Hair standing on my nape—an expression, of course, for my head was currently balder than Johnny Sins’—I quickly turned away in a panic, cold sweats pouring down my back. Strange I still had such human expressions, but it’s as if my body were automatically equating it. “Nope. Nothing.”
“Ho…”
The Feline Goddess flew near my face, our noses practically touching as she yowled.
It was like watching a cat fight, but I wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. “What are you looking at, Nyan~!”
“Sorry.”
I mumbled before violently grabbing Lysara in a bear hug. “You’re just too darn adorable!”
I groaned, burying my face in her soft, pillowy furs and inhaling her unexpectedly nice aroma as Lysara pushed me away.
Whichever groomer took care of her should definitely get a raise. “Get- Get off me, Nyan!” Pervert! Lecher!” Her tail hit me in the face, but the pain couldn’t take away the intense delight I had stroking the pussy(cat).
Lysara’s paw lashed out like a streaking meteor, gentle as a feather. She could have hurt me if she had chosen to, as a much older and more experienced Creator than I was, which could only mean one thing: “You are such a tsundere, Lysara!”
The Feline Goddess exclaimed in outrage, “Who are you calling a tsundere?!”
I drew back, glittering stars meeting greenish pearls.
“Do you even know what a tsundere is?”
Lysara’s whiskers twitched cutely as she crossed her arms. “I know it’s an insult!”
It wasn’t, though. Everybody loved a nice tsundere. I’d argue everyone needed one in their life. “Interesting…”
“What is?” Lysara cocked her head.
“That we seem to understand each other perfectly fine, but there are words that just don’t translate quite well…” The notion of All-Speak wasn’t alien to me, but it looked like it was not All-Encompassing, most likely because certain concepts just did not exist for certain Creators. Lysara looked and behaved like a cat, but she was not a cat, evidently. “That is typical. There is a reason why we, as Creators, exchange Truth. Exchanging ideas can help build better Universes, as more concepts are made available for us.”
It’s like a Caucasian being surprised that certain Asians appeared completely comfortable with eating dogs or cats, or how certain tribes isolated from the modern world couldn’t fathom how humans could harness the power of electricity, which they saw as an uncontrollable force of nature.
If my memory hadn’t failed me yet, a cannibalistic tribe was located in the Indonesian rainforest. Cannibalism was an absolutely horrid thing in the eyes of the world’s ‘civilized’ people, but what about those tribesmen? It’s merely another Friday night, except they probably didn’t even follow the Gregorian Calendar.
“Unhand me, you bipedal cur, Nyan~!”
My fingers encircled her floppy ears.
“Didn’t you ask me to do this earlier?”
“There is a time and place for everything, Nyan~! Now, unhand me!”
Chuckling, I did as instructed, releasing the Feline Goddess, who huffed and snorted angrily. “Do that again and I shall claw out your eyes, Nyan~!"
“I don’t have eyes…”
“Yet, Nyan~!” Lysara said threateningly, kneading the Void as if to ‘sharpen’ her claws. “Look carefully, disrespectful Fledgling, Nyan~”
The Feline Goddess began to retch, which caused me to stare at her in alarm. I dashed forward, rubbing her ruffled back like one would a burping newborn, but Lysara didn’t appear to appreciate my efforts, judging from the glare— scathing and ominous— she was sending me. “Don’t mess with my creative process, Nyan~!”
Then her maws split wide open, jaws loosening like a snake with tentacles pouring out.
“Is that a fucking hairball?”
I asked in equal part disgust and astonishment, but it wasn’t just any hairball; among the fissures of hair around it, there were stars flashing brightly, but they weren’t stars either; they were galaxies. Bright, majestic galaxies too numerous for mere mortals to count. “… Did you just vomit up a Universe?”
Lysara, however, remained awfully silent and solemn for perhaps the first time since I had seen her, so I kept silent as well, observing the whole process on the sideline.
The Creation Seeds in me pulsed with eagerness, as if imploring me to follow Lysara’s example. I relaxed myself as anxiety crept in, ‘You won’t succeed…’ Parts of me whispered—the parts I most despised. ‘What you made will be repulsive and nasty. The Universe made in your image will be the most horrible, a place no God will wish to behold and no mortal will ever gaze at with appreciation.’
And so, the fire in me seemed to flicker out; my once glinting Creation Seeds dimming.
I couldn’t do this without a plan… I couldn’t fail… Even if there was ultimately no purpose to my Universe, the least I could do was give my Creations what I never had as a mortal—a life worth living; some worth and value, at the least.
Millions of years appeared to have passed within Lysara’s freshly created Universe, despite the fact that we Creators had only been there for five minutes. The earliest lifeforms quickly formed from the Primordial Ooze. They were germs, each of which resembled the Chibi image of their Creator. “Can… Can I?” I reached out, excited to see what the Feline Goddess had produced. “You may, Nyan~!”
With her permission, I entered the Universe and found myself floating near the first star, with Lysara following soon after.
The brightness that should have burnt out my eyes seemed like the soft warmth of a hearth stroking our flesh.
It was really comfy, and the Feline Goddess seemed to agree, given how she stretched. “So… What do you think, Nyan~?”
“Are you going to create a species?”
Lysara shrugged, “No, Nyan. My last fifty Universes were designed for an explicit species to thrive at the top, but it’s getting boring. I want to see how things will develop without my interferences, Nyan~!” Processes which took billions of years to happen passed by us in quick, fleeting flashes, and I suddenly comprehended the All-Father’s previous words. “Ho? The Truth of Time, Nyan~?”
We are endlessly dense singularities, warping space and time by our sheer existence.
Even among us, many presumably operated at a different pace, much like the Flash, who could think billions of ideas in a nanosecond.
Time was whatever we wanted it to be—slow or quick.
The Divine Calendar was a mortal idea that was required for the City of Omnipotence to function, which is why we willingly enslaved ourselves to the Spaghetti Monster’s Law of Time.
Opening my eyes, I gazed at the first planet formed after Lysara coughed up the hairball, teeming with life, and deliberately delayed my vision.
On this planet, the dominant species was a race of feline-like animals with scales instead of fur. Their spine was lined with dark, mane-like tentacles that functioned similarly to human hands, allowing them to wield weapons and the likes with ease, although they had yet invented anything worthwhile.
They’re still in the Paleolithic Era—the Stone Age, in layman’s terms.
“Have you thought of a name yet?”
“For what—the Universe, the planet or this species specifically, Nyan~?” Lysara licked her paws lazily, “All of the above.”
“Why don’t you do it, Nyan~”
“But I didn’t create them…”
The Feline Goddess rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Who cares? It’s just another universe, Nyan~”
‘It’s just another universe.’ Internally, I pondered how many other Creators shared her thoughts. I pondered what their Creations would think if they were told the truth: That their Creator didn’t give a damn. In all fairness, I did not resented Lysara for it; I simply couldn’t… Reconcile the reality. If I did make something, I would cherish it as if it were my own kid. “Let’s name this the…”
I hesitated, recalling Odin’s usage of the term ‘Yggdrasil System’ and made a decision.
“The Whiskerverse; the planet Whiskeria and the species Whiskerean.”
These names seemed appropriate to me, but Lysara didn’t seem to agree.
"Fledgling… You need to work on that naming sense of yours, Nyan~” Despite her words, the Feline Goddess made no attempt to modify the titles I had bestowed upon her new Universe, including the first planet and species. “Want to meet them, Nyan~? Might give you an idea of how first-contact usually goes.”
Mouth open, I peered at the group of animals constructing a blockage to their cave—the first door in this Universe, in fact.
I said ‘building’, but it was more like the Whiskerean was plugging up the opening to their cave than anything. “Let’s do it…” Patting myself, I turned to Lysara and asked, “How do I look?”
“Terrible, Nyan~ Bipedalism is not optimal at all.” Sad yet true. Humans faced several challenges, including balance and stability, sensitivity to certain ailments, and issues with acceleration and agility. I would definitely stick with the humanoid shape for my first species, but the actual shape of human? Probably not. For some Creators, humans might be strange, but the race of Man was the most… Mundane to me. “Is this all there is to it?”
We glided silently down to their home, our odors quickly detected by the Whiskerean.
The first to rush out appeared larger than practically all of their species, reaching the size of a bear, even though the typical member of their species appeared to be the size of a tiger.
The Whiskerean snarled viciously as it moved into position to pounce on us, and then it did, fangs eager to dig into our skin. “You wanna do it, or should I, Nyan~?” With naught but a quick snap of my fingers, the Whiskerean’s caught in a web of Time, forever splintering into infinitely branching paths. In one, it stayed the leader of this tribe, later dying of old age.
I felt it shiver as the cold grasp of Death settled upon it.
In another, it left when the betas were irritated by how the tribe’s ladies clustered around it. Despite its greatest efforts, it was unable to outfight the majority. It trotted out into the sunset later, moaning as fury tinted its thinking a deep, dark crimson.
It ventured out Into the wilderness, expecting to locate others like it and make war on its previous tribe, only to collapse after two centuries of roaming aimlessly. Even worse was the knowledge that another tribe had lost hope only a few kilometers north.
The Whiskerean shook, sorrow and anguish flowing from it.
I felt sorry for the creature, how great must its pain be, to be shunned for simply existing.
It wasn’t your typical Alpha male, either, merely someone who wanted to safeguard the area where it was born—protect the tribe which had protected it.
“Muh~ What sad life may live, Nyan~”
Then I remembered, what was happening in this Timeline had yet taken place, but the damage was already done. The Whiskerean would never trust its tribe again… “All actions have consequences.” Wrist tilting, I searched for a Timeline where it’d live out the rest of its life in glory and love, if only to counteract the depressing reality that may lie ahead. Just like so, my perception slowed to a crawl.
Millions of Timelines—millions of lives still to be lived—flashed before my eyes, but it was no longer the happy-go-lucky, if kindhearted fool it once was.
It now survived to govern, but its existence was eternally stained by the suffering it had endured as a result of my irresponsibility. Time was so fickle. Simply by giving it information, it no longer wanted to be the guardian it once was; instead, it desired dominance and power, and the previous Timelines were all erased. In one, it fought—it warred—it hurt all who dared challenge its might, until it died never trusting anyone; never able to get past what it had experienced.
But it wasn’t just one; it’s countless.
Anger rising in me, I knelt at its side, sharing the Time Force with it. Except for Lysara, the Whiskerean, and myself, everything was moving at a sluggish pace—frozen, in fact. “What’s your name?” It gazed at me, perplexity seeping from its eyes, and croaked in a language that could not possibly be English, but which my mind translated so anyhow.
“What’s—?” It swallowed thickly, “What’s a name? Can it be eaten?”
Lysara and I laughed, causing the Whiskerean to snarl.
With a glimpse, I read its mind, where numerous ideas laid, but the one in the forefront was, ‘FIGHT!’ Its instincts screamed in alarm, telling it how outmatched it was, but it stood tall despite its dread.
“You mocking me?!”
“No… Of course not… A name is a… A term—a word with which a person can be addressed by. Take for example, I named your species Whiskerean–”
“Stupid name by the way.”
The Feline Goddess murmured to the side. “What do the people in your tribe call you?” It’s a fruitless exercise because their species hadn’t evolved language.
At the moment, their sole modes of communication were body clues and growls, but I inquired, if only out of politeness. “I… I not have name. Name stupid.” It’s not surprising. Their species was young, and their population in too small a pool for name to feel necessary, but once their number exploded, he’s gonna think different, especially due to how long the Whiskerean lifespan was.
With sufficient nourishment, they may live to 500 on average, and if insulated from the elements, they may even live up to 7 centuries, and while their reproductive rate may not be comparable to humans, each litter of hatchlings might produce 7 or 8 offspring.
It’s only a matter of time before they populate this planet, unless an Extinction Level Event occurred, or they invented Space Travel technologies. “Why don’t we give you one?”
“No more whisker-theme name, Nyan~!” Lysara hissed next to us.
“Okay, alright. How about Paul?”
Lysara’s claws rapidly reached my back. It… It didn’t hurt, but I dared say it was unpleasant. “I was joking!” I wasn’t. It’s just the first thing that came up, but she needed not know that.
“It’s a stupid joke, Nyan~!”
“It not nice-sounding.” Even the Whiskerean was agreeing with her. Ouch… “How about–”
The Whiskerean had the body form of a lion, but with crimson scales instead of furs and tentacles for a mane. It’s quite the appearance, I might just steal Lysara’s idea— “Ouch! What was that for?!”
“You were thinking something rude, Nyan~”
I ignored her, rubbing the bridge of my nose, and turned to face the immobile Whiskerean.
“How about Leopanthra?” It could be abbreviated to Leo, while sounding hip, it was also not awkward to say. The Whiskerean—Leo clicked its forked tongue, as if to test the name, then bobbed its head. I wondered what it sounded like in their tongue, maybe if I could just turn off my All-Speak…
I did, and all I heard were garbled nonsenses that perfectly encapsulated the unholy screeches of a cougar in heat—not ‘those’ cougars—a butchered pig’s squeals and a bird’s morning chirps. “Oh fuck—” Flipping the switch on my All-Speak, “Wow, that wasn’t what I was expecting.” It felt like my ears were bleeding from the sounds, in spite of the fact I had no ears.
“I Leopanthra…”
The Whiskerean whispered, growing warmer to the idea of a name. “What you want? Who you are?”
Lysara puffed out her chest, “I’m your Creator, Nyan~!”
“… Creator?”
“She created the ground you’re standing on; the sky you’d gaze at when you’re bored; even your tribe… All in this Realm is a result of her–” Recalling how Lysara created this—everything, I coughed. “Of her careful crafting and–”
“Nah, I just vo—”
Immediately, I silenced the Goddess, wincing as her fangs dug into my palm. “Stop throwing a hissy fit!”
I ordered, “Have a little sense, you unreliable Goddess!”
“What you want, Creators?” It’s amusing how simpleminded and innocent the Whiskerean—Leo—still was. There was no reverence in his gaze, only curiosity. “We wanted to… To meet you; see how your life goes. Will you walk with us?”
“Can’t. I want to… To—”
“You want vengeance against your tribe?”
“YES!”
Leo howled, agony lacing his every word. “Those- Those betrayers! Traitors! I protected them!”
“Walk with us, please. After our talk, if you still feel like… Killing them—”
Their tribe numbered exactly 57 people, with seven more on the way.
In all of the Timelines I observed, Leo would lower the number by a third, sometimes even half, to eliminate possible threats due to the major trust issues I just gave him. With such a small gene pool, their tribe would eventually be compelled to inbreed, producing enormous problems and significantly reducing their life expectancy.
Even worse, they failed to become the dominant species since this particular tribe was the first to acquire actual intellect, and were instead degraded to the level of cheetahs on Earth. It was rather tragic. Hesitantly, perhaps already realizing how outmatched he was, the Whiskerean followed us. “What do you plan now?”
“To rule.” He answered simply,
And I inquired. “With what?”
“I strong. They must obey.” But that never worked. Earth was littered with such tales—tales of great men who were murdered by his people due to his tyranny and cruelty. Even in the Timelines where Leo managed to outlive his enemies, he’d become miserable, unable to trust anyone and thus untrustworthy to all.
“I know you are stronger than them, but strength—like everything else—will fade. If you rule them through tyranny, there will come a newer, more powerful contender that even you may fail to overcome, or the others in the tribe will undoubtedly try to gang up on you again. Besides, they have not wronged you. Not yet.” If there’s one thing one I had realized—the sole Truth I truly believed in, then it’s simply couldn’t live on what-ifs.
Brows furrowed, the Whiskerean looked to be struggling to grasp all the Concepts I had just callously thrown in his face. “Do, what should I? Forgive?”
“There is nothing to forgive, Leo. What you experienced was just one path in an eternally branching tree. If you don’t want that future, then make yourself indispensable.” Strength was expendable. Soldiers were plentiful, but what about a soldier who was also a thinker? The tribe couldn’t kick him out.
Nobody cared to seek for him in the original Timeline because, while his existence improved their lives, it wasn’t substantial enough. Everything boiled down to supply and demand. “How?”
I looked into his eyes, the answer flowing as naturally as I breathed. “Create.”
— Godhood For Dummy —
From that point forth, I began providing Leo with ideas for improving the livelihoods of their people.
It began with locks and doors, and they were no longer forced to move boulders three to four times their size to plug up their cave.
Next came weapons to be handled by their tentacles—nothing remarkable, just chunks of pebbles broken into pieces and tied into wooden shafts with vines.
The most beneficial invention, however, were books, or rather clay tablets.
I understood what oral traditions would produce—an incoherent mess future generations would struggle to decipher—and while cave paintings and written words may not be the ideal ways to preserve information, they were the better alternatives nevertheless.
In a blink, a thousand years had passed.
Einstein was right, Time was relative…
Despite my slowed perception, the passing centuries felt like a fleeting breeze.
We stopped interacting with the Whiskerean after the third century, not because I lost interest, but because Leo was starting to rely on us too much. Still, it was done, his name would be cemented into history as the ancestor of their species, at least that’s what I saw in the major Timeline. “He’s going to die today, isn’t he?” Lysara yawned, yet she failed to hide the flicker of sadness in her eyes.
“Such is the life of mortal, Nyan~”
“What will happen to him?” I pondered as we sat at the end of his bed—nothing special, just a bunch of dry leaves thrown together, but it’s already the most luxurious around town. “His consciousness will fade, the energy stored in him will be returned to Whiskeria so the cycle may begin anew, Nyan~”
“Isn’t there an Afterlife of sort? A way to preserve who he is?”
“No, Nyan~ There’s no point.”
“So that’s it?”
It was indeed a marvelous occurrence to see the beginning of the Universe, its expansion, and the rise of the first species.
However… “Is there no… Supernatural? Are there no other Deities to guide your Universe? Nothing fantastical?”
Lysara glanced at me, “Why, Nyan? Giving your Creations the precise thing they need to dethrone you sounds like a bother. I have seen too many Fledglings make the same mistake, and it invariably ends with them being killed by their Creations or imprisoned, Nyan~”
“But-“ I halted, searching for the correct words; a reason grander than the fact I had grown to care for this particular tribe of Whiskerean. “But this is boring… And wouldn’t it generate more Experiences if a type of Magic System is put in place?”
“It is, but it’s riskier, Nyan~”
Ah… So, it all came down to risk aversion. A Universe without a Magic or Supernatural System generated less in return, but it was a consistent source of income with fewer chances of turning against their Creator, whereas a Universe where even mortals had the ability to irreversibly change the Laws of Nature resulted in faster income, but it also made things much more difficult for the Creator if their Creations decided they wanted to be at the top of the food chain.
Essentially, we had to choose between running a typical, bite-sized, local business and trying to launch an international, fashionable one that would fail miserably.
I desired the latter, even if it seemed stupid.
My goal was not stability, but rather “Greatness.” Perhaps the Creations I created would rebel, but even then they must be magnificent and grand.
“You’re here…” Leo croaked, his hazy eyes tearing up at the sight of us. “Here we are.”
I waved, chest aching at the thoughts my… Friend would be gone by the morning. It felt like just yesterday when we met, “Creator… Teacher… You two have returned alas. Why did you leave?”
“We didn’t, Nyan~”
“We were there, right alongside you.”
This was the truth. There were several instances when Leo was near death, and I had to save him while remaining in the background so he didn’t become too dependent on us. “What will happen now?”
“Death. Your body shall decay, returning to the soils where you’re born, and from you, new Life will rise, Nyan~”
“Will I cease to be?”
With a wave of her paws, a hologram of the thriving tribe materialized in the chamber, their numbers having grown to thousands. It was no longer a tribe, but rather a tiny town. “Your Will shall remain, Nyan~ Your Essence shall return to the world in an endless cycle.”
“Ah… Did I do good?”
“I can save you.” I offered and—surprisingly— Lysara didn’t interject.
The human in me cried and roared, screaming with me to save him, and I could, but putting this same misery on others, the pain of seeing everything fade away, ‘Is it worth it?’
No wonder Creators were so callous—no wonder they pursued the Truth so desperately, neglecting their Creations; else, they would all commit Soul Suicide. “The choice lies with you, Leo.” A glint of delight appeared in his depths for a brief instant before fading as he exhaled. It may just be my imagination, but I swear I saw sympathy in his eyes.
“Sorry, but infinity is too much. I have had a wonderful life, Teacher. Thanks to you.”
“So be it.”
I waited with him until the last gleam disappeared, ‘till his body was hauled away, and his abandoned him in the wilderness, for despite my effort to spread burial as a tradition, it never took.
“You’ll have to get used to this, Nyan~ It’s a part of existence. Even us will fade, when our Wills begin to wane…”
“Why?”
She watched at me while bugs and other creatures dragged Leo away, and Nature took care of his remains.
“It just is, Nyan~ Worrying too much will only make you bitter and resentful. You are young, you have a lot to discover and build.”
“Do you wish to leave?”
I glanced at the tribe below, at the ugly statues built on my and Lysara’s honor, sat next to them laid the Leo’s, smaller, less decorated, yet celebrated nonetheless.
“Let’s.”
