Galaxy's First Ruler

Chapter 1: Prologue

When I answered the question 'Who I am?' I found out that I am a God.

[..]

I looked up after this sudden realization, and yes, there he was, watching and observing me. There was no particular look in his eyes, no story, and no statement. It was like he was expecting another question. So I did.

When I answered the question 'Why I am?' I found out that I am a Way.

Yes, a Way to fill the blankness in his eyes. This answer gave me a purpose. And I convinced myself that I have no more questions unanswered. So I took my first step with an unwavering resolution to find a story.

They are easy to find, the stories. But what isn't easy is to determine if they are worthy.

Not just any story could fill those eyes with alertness. So I went on a long journey. It was my first time being away from home. And somehow it turned out to be my last, too. For I had found something worth waiting for. So I waited.

As I was wandering through the many worlds, I came across something different. Now, different can be good depending on how it is being portrayed. And this world portrayed itself as quite fascinating to me. I heard a calling from the future and I glimpsed a great story. And this story would unfold in this world in a few billion years.

In the meantime, I observed "little innocent beings" devouring each other. Darkness had embraced them like a mother embraces her newborn. The "little innocent beings" lost their innocence when I made them see the result of their voracious appetite. Soon I found them developing a concept called RECORD, like a set of rules, to regulate their hunger.

No, I had no part in its development. Yes, I was the one who suggested it.

They made rules and made an already fascinating world even more exciting. It had been quite a while since the RECORD overpowered its developers and replaced the base laws of this world.

No, I had never foreseen this happening. Yes, I knew this would happen.

Ah, that time soon came, which I foresaw. RECORD had already made itself known to most of the intelligent species of this world. The "not so innocent beings", later named as The Oldest Ones, had to develop their races according to the rules, rules that they were being forced to follow.

Destiny guided me to one of these settlements. A Barred Spiral Galaxy: The Milky Way.

An excellent story needs characters. And my first character was in his mother's arms sucking milk when I found him. But destiny did not gather on this character for too long. As I saw him becoming stronger, oblivious to his future, Destiny held my hand again and brought me to a blue planet.

And it had no intention of moving further, for it selected an ordinary boy. Yes, he was ordinary, and compared to my first character; he was nothing. The converging of Destiny is neither good nor bad. But it is, definitely, a condition for the initiation of the story. Its converging on this character did not mean him being a chosen one. In mundane terms, Destiny can select a spider, and humans getting power after being bitten by it can be the ultimate beneficiary.

Intelligent beings of this planet had bizarre views on many things, and the most bizarre was their perception of the Divine. There was no outline for who to call a God. The situation was like this because the 'not so innocent beings' had put little weight on their evolution.

Nothing lasts forever. Hardships and rewards often go hand in hand and looking at the new character, I found myself content for all the wait.

I saw all that needed to be seen and much more. The journey was brief, but the characters lived it to the full. And the feeling of having more, as the thirst for water at the end of a long run, was ever insatiable. My story had finally taken shape, and every writer needs something to write on and something to write with.

But am I a writer? When I held the pen to write, I came across a baffling question. I thought I had already answered all the questions that I should have asked. Yet, this question, which didn't seem of any importance, became more essential than the last two.

I knew who I was. I also knew why I was. And finally, the moment came to ask the last question. So I did.

When I answered the question 'What I am?' I found out that I am just a hand.

I am the Hand of Mr. Lost.

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