The Legend of the Constellar King-Chapter 147: Genesis

In the beginning....the universe was like a silent room yet countless shining galaxies and planets was there. Cold and endless as if time itself had never dared to breathe.

Sa simula, ang sanlibutan ay katulad ng isang tahimik na silid ngunit puno ng hindi mabilang na mga galaksiya, at mga planeta. Malamig na walang katapusan, para bang ang oras mismo ay hindi pa humihinga.

Elsewhere, there was nothing but the quiet embrace of emptiness. Planets lay barren and unaware of what is life even meant, while distant stars shimmered endlessly, unaware of their own beauty.

Sa ibang ibayo, isang katahimikan lamang ang bumabalot sa kawalan. Ang mga planeta ay walang kakayahang lumikha ng mga nilalang, at hindi rin kilala kung ano ang kahulugan ng buhay. Habang ang bituin sa malayo ay kumikinang nang walang hanggan, di alintana ang kanilang tunay na kagandahan.

Then, from the depths of the cosmos, there was a powerful being emerged, like a fleeting comet that shine so radiant and divine.

Subalit, mula sa malawak na Kosmos, merong isang makapangyarihang nilalang ang lumabas, gaya ng isang lumilipad na bulalakaw na lumiliwanag nang may kabanalan.

"I am Genesis," he spoke, his voice resonating like the breath of stars, a Celestial Entity who wandered through countless universes. "I came from a realm beyond this one, forever searching for a sanctuary to plant my sacred seeds—my Celestial Genes."

’Ako si Henesis, " Nagsalita siya, ang kanyang boses ay umaalingawngaw na katulad ng hininga ng mga bituin, isang Celestial entity na matagal nang naglalakbay sa hindi mabilang na uniberso. "Nanggaling ako sa ibang mundo bago pa ako dumating dito, walang hintong naghahangad na makahanap ng sangtuwaryo upang itanim ang aking binhi—ang aking celestial genes."

His radiance dimmed, as though sorrow itself pulled upon his light.

"But the creations of other gods hunted my children. My seeds... my precious creations... became prey to merciless predators. One after another, they vanished, devoured before they could flourish."

Dumilim ang kanyang liwanag, na para bang ang kalungkutang mismo ang tumulak sa kanyang tanglaw.

"Subalit, ang mga nilalang ng ibang diyos, hinuli at pinatay ang aking mga anak. Ang aking mga butil....ang aking kinakaingatang mga likha...naging pagkain ng mga walang awang mandaragit. Isa-isang naglaho, kinain at pinatay bago pa ito umusbong."

He lifted his trembling hand, and in his palm a single seed as big like a Jupiter’s moon. This seed was fragile, yet holding the whisper of infinite potential.

"And now..." his voice quivered like the edge of breaking dawn, "I have only one remaining seed."

Silence cascaded through the cosmos around him, heavy and mournful. He gazed into the void, as if seeing the graves of worlds long lost.

Itinaas niya ang kanyang nanginginig na kamay, at sa kanyang palad, isang butil na kasin laki ng buwan ng Jupiter. Marupok ang butil na ito, subalit hawak nito ang bulong ng walang hanggang kakayahan.

"Ngayon," ang boses niya nanginginig na parang nasa dulo ng takipsilim. "Meron pa akong natitirang isang butil."

Lumakbay ang katahimikan sa buong Kosmos na nakapaligid sa kanya, mabigat at nagdadalamhati. Ang kanyang titig sa kawalan, para bang nakatingin sa libingan ng mga mundo na matagal ng nawala.

"A countless number of attempts," he murmured, the weight of eternity pressing into each word, "world after world, universe after universe... yet none of my celestial seedlings survived. Always torn away. Always destroyed."

A brittle sigh escaped him—ancient, weary, yet stubborn with hope.

"Perhaps I am cursed to forever stand at the beginning of creation," he whispered. "To watch life take its first breath... only to see it stolen away in the next."

His celestial aura flickered, not with weakness—but with heartbreak and a will that refused to die.

"Still," he breathed, closing his hand around the final seed, "if there is even one chance left... I will try again."

And though sorrow clung to him like shadow, a faint ember of determination burned within his gaze—small, fragile, but defiant against the endless dark.

Then, his eyes roamed through the new found universe—vast, silent, uncharted. He stretched his divine awareness across galaxies, scanning every field of void and starlight, ensuring no other entity lurked in the shadows of existence. He traveled alone, and he wished to remain unseen—for his last seed was too precious, too fragile to risk again.

Loneliness clung to him like ancient dust, but necessity forged caution. And then—something stirred. A flicker. A breath. A singular, miraculous anomaly.

"Hm?" His voice drifted through the void like a whisper across eternity. "A spark of life... here?"

His glowing gaze sharpened, twin lanterns cutting through the cosmic dark. With a single thought, his perception expanded—stretching, bending space as though the universe itself bowed to reveal its secrets. His sight became a divine telescope, sweeping across galaxies until it found the source.

There, Genesis saw a small, humble, yet radiant in its fragility.

A blue planet, cradling oceans that gleamed like polished sapphire and continents breathing in deep emerald sways. Winds caressed mountains, rivers traced veins of silver across the land, and beneath clouds, life moved—soft, vibrant, wondrous.

"There truly is life on that planet..." he murmured, and a gentle smile softened his features. Awe warmed his celestial heart. "Such a unique form of existence."

He focused, magnifying his sight until distance meant nothing. He watched creatures take flight, wings cutting arcs through the sky. He saw scales shimmer beneath waves, paws touch soil, tiny insects tracing invisible patterns in air. He peered deeper still—past skin, past bones, down into the invisible world of the microscopic.

Germs, bacteria, fungi, shimmering plankton—tiny specks of life dancing like glimmers of stardust blessed with purpose. Every organism, great or humble, moved with intention, rhythm, story.

"Remarkable," he breathed. "Even the smallest beings are given form, meaning, and design... The creator of this universe holds deep affection for life—down to its tiniest threads."

Wonder glowed in his voice. There was reverence in his gaze.

"This universe was crafted by a god," he whispered. "A hand of purpose. A mind of care."

Yet confusion dimmed his light.

"But why... why only one living world?"

His consciousness swept outward again—across stars burning in proud isolation, planets drifting silent and sterile in the cosmic sea.

"There are countless worlds," he mused, sorrow brushing his words. "Yet all remain empty, dormant, untouched by breath or hope."

The blue world alone pulsed with life like a lone lantern in a cemetery of worlds. "Is this planet..."

"A trial?" he wondered softly. "A test of creation? Or a universe only just beginning to awaken?"

And as he watched that living world spin quietly beneath its star, Genesis felt something stir within him—

a fragile spark of hope...

and a new fear.

For where life exists, so may predators.

And he had only one seed left to risk in this fragile, uncertain creation.

"Hmm..." His eyes closed halfway, light pulsing gently like a contemplative star. "Perhaps... life in this universe is not yet complete. Or perhaps this tiny blue planet is a trial—an unfinished Chapter in a divine design."

Silence gathered around him—vast, eternal, solemn. The cosmos itself seemed to hold its breath as thought formed in his ancient mind. A seed of idea sprouted—bold, desperate, hopeful.

"This universe... it feels untouched by malice. Untainted," he whispered. "Safe enough that my sacred essence may finally bloom."

He lifted his palms.

From his hands, his final sacred seed emerged—small at first, then expanding, radiating brilliance until it shone like a newborn star, pulsing with life yet unformed. It hummed, resonant with creation’s first note.

"My last seed," he breathed, voice trembling with ancient longing. "Today... you shall grow and multiply."

He pressed a kiss to the seed—yet it was not merely affection. It was a blessing, a transfer of divinity. Power flowed from him, cascading like rivers of cosmic flame. Knowledge, instinct, wisdom of eons, and the breath of stars themselves poured into the seed.

"Carry my light," he whispered. "Shape life for every world and every star— except for that small blue one. That world already holds a dream its own."

PZHHMMMM—!

Brilliance erupted.

Whoosh!

Light scattered like swarming celestial fireflies—millions of glowing threads streaking through the void, falling upon sleeping stars and barren planets, igniting them with promise.

And thus began the awakening of a universe meant to flourish.

"These seeds shall craft a perfect creation," he declared softly. "A cosmos where celestial life rises strong—unhunted, unbroken, free."

Yet even stars cannot defend themselves alone. His gaze deepened, solemn as ancient judgment.

"Before I fade... I shall appoint guardians."

He raised his hand, and constellations trembled. In front of him, Eighty-eight guardians stood, after they were summoned, power shimmered—shapes of beasts, warriors, titans, celestial tools, watchers woven into the heavens themselves.

"Eighty-eight guardians," he intoned, voice carrying across eternity. "Born from starlight and duty. You shall call yourselves... Constellar Guardians."

The constellations pulsed—alive, awakening.

"Hear me," Genesis commanded, his tone heavy with sacred decree. "Before I enter eternal slumber, engrave my will upon your souls. Protect this universe. Protect your kin. Protect your newborn home. Stand as shields against chaos and hunters of corruption. You are sentinels of the void, children of the stars, heirs to my final dream."

A hush fell.

Galaxies glimmered like candle flames in a cathedral of night. And Genesis, weary yet fulfilled, looked upon his creation with gentle hope.

"Guard well this cradle of existence," he whispered, voice fading into gentle stardust. "For I... shall rest."