Elegy from Another World

In the beginning there was no word, but a gaze. Where the gaze gathered, a name was born.

The void implies the existence of a confrontation between "being" and "non-being," implying that the concept of space has already been established. No, it is more fundamental than the void; it is an absolute nothingness where even the distinction between "existence" and "non-existence" has not yet been born. If the tentacles of thought must assign it a temporary coordinate, perhaps it can be called "-1"—a singularity that precedes all beginnings in the logical sequence.

However, in this absolute silence of "-1", a tiny point of light, defying all common sense, quietly emerged.

This was not the resounding roar of creation, but a heartbeat in the silence. It was too faint, too lonely, its light unable even to outline a clear contour for itself. This point of light was the initial singularity, the condensation of all the ideas and emotions poured forth by some indefinable, non-existent will. This pouring forth itself was the greatest miracle, a gentle challenge to absolute nothingness.

The point of light grew slowly, like a germ struggling beneath endless frozen soil. Its growth was not an expansion of volume, but a proliferation of complexity. In the beginning, it was just a chaotic idea; then, the rudiments of a world and the threads of its rules began to emerge faintly within it.

It was at this time that changes occurred.

Some imaging points began to appear around this tiny point of light.

They are not physical entities, but rather coordinate representations of pure attention, like stars that occasionally twinkle in the night sky. They flicker, as if they might vanish at any moment with a lapse in attention. The appearance and stabilization of each point of manifestation stirs a barely perceptible ripple on the surface of the light. The non-existent will senses these ripples and draws from them the confidence and motivation to continue building. It is these initial, external resonances that give meaning to the solitary creation.

The light spot no longer maintains its original spherical shape.

Its growth trajectory gradually resembles that of a naturally growing nerve cell. The trunk represents the flow of its core destiny, while the ever-branching branches are the endless details that emerge, the unspoken past, and the latent possibilities of the characters. The non-existent will is gratified by the vitality of this "narrative tree," but also aware of the finite resources. Not all branches can obtain sufficient nourishment in the present moment; some choices must be made.

Thus, compression, a fundamental principle of narrative structure, was applied for the first time.

Those branches, too sprawling and temporarily unable to unfold, yet containing unique potential, were gently wrapped and folded by Fei Zai's invisible power, encapsulated in translucent square boxes. These narrative ambers or boxes of possibilities float around the main trunk, the flow of time within them tending to stand still. Their stories are temporarily stored, not deleted, like deeply buried seeds, quietly awaiting the opportunity to be awakened again.

This narrative cell continues to evolve.

The number of visible points gradually increased, from just a few at the beginning to a sparse but steadfast ring, like loyal satellites orbiting a revitalized planet. This collective focus created a subtle resonance, an empowering effect of observation. Within this resonance, the narrative cells evolved into something more precise, complex, and vivid. The main trunk became clearer and more solid, while new branches sprouted at an even faster pace.

More boxes were created to contain this explosive growth in information. Some branches were compressed into background setting document boxes; some characters' complex pasts were included in character genealogy boxes; and some magnificent potential branches were marked as destiny divergence scrolls.

However, as systems become increasingly complex, the cold, underlying rule of entropy increase begins to show its effects.

Some of the earlier compressed boxes, due to their encoding methods no longer being fully synchronized with the new standards of the main trunk, began to experience data decay. The boxes became blurred, their boundaries flickering, and the stories sealed within seemed to be disturbed. More significantly, some branches containing extremely strong emotional energy or logical paradoxes even exhibited logical overflow in their compressed boxes—narrative fragments within the boxes, like ghosts breaking free of their restraints, began to seep into the main trunk's timeline, causing subtle temporal disorder.

This may be the true source of those seemingly contradictory "phantoms of the future" and "echoes of the past" that certain individuals occasionally glimpse. They are not systemic errors, but rather the inevitable metabolism of this constantly evolving and self-optimizing narrative structure in the process of dynamic equilibrium.

This narrative tree, sown by non-will and nourished by the resonance of manifest points, is now a complex life form with lush branches and leaves, yet also filled with the secrets of memory.

It is imperfect because it is still growing.

It is full of dynamic contradictions because it contains a past that has not died and a restless future.

Now, the very core of this giant tree is facing a decisive turning point in its destiny. A crucial node is forming, containing such immense energy that all attempts at compression and encapsulation around it seem futile.

A brand new, unprecedented state is brewing. An impulse to break free from all pre-set paths is pulsating at the core of the system.

That pulsating heartbeat might be called—

free.