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The speed was beyond measure so extreme that no language could properly describe even a fraction of it.
In a single instant, the needle of will pierced through the atmosphere and entered the endless void of space.
The vast Pokémon world, shrouded in its decaying dreamlike aura, vanished behind it in the blink of an eye.
Stars flared on either side, streaking past like rivers of light flowing through the cosmos.
The spiritual needle carried a peculiar energy. Devouring black holes, blazing neutron stars anything that lay in its path was passed through effortlessly, as though it existed behind glass. Untouchable. Intangible.
Time lost meaning.
Perhaps a day passed.
Perhaps a year.
Even the concept of duration blurred beneath its relentless advance.
Gradually, the starlight around it dimmed, The vitality that once filled the universe thinned into something faint and distant.
A subtle purple haze seeped into the surrounding darkness.
This was a region hidden beneath the brilliance of galaxies a silent, barren expanse where no movement stirred.
No light.
Only endless shadow.
And within that vacuum—
There was sound.
A strange, rhythmic sound echoed through a place where no air existed.
"...hh..."
"...hh..."
It did not travel through vibration or atmosphere. Instead, it resonated directly within the mind soft and steady.
If any intelligent being had been present, they would have recognized it immediately.
It sounded like—
Snoring.
In a region where even starlight failed to penetrate, snoring echoed through the void.
Absurd.
Impossible.
Yet undeniably real.
For the first time since its departure, the spiritual needle trembled.
Like metal drawn to a powerful magnet, it locked onto that sound. The moment it recognized it, the needle accelerated violently toward the source hidden deep within the darkness.
A low hum rippled through space.
Then—
A brilliant golden light pierced the black.
There, suspended in the void, was a white figure enveloped in sacred radiance.
Its form resembled a four-legged being. Golden hooves pressed against empty space, each step creating ripples like water disturbed by unseen currents.
A mane of ethereal flame drifted softly above its head. Its dark-gray, solemn face remained serene, eyes closed in profound slumber.
From its abdomen extended a radiant cross-shaped wheel the luminous ring known as the Thousand Arms arching gracefully along its back. Four emerald gemstones, imbued with divine authority, glowed faintly at the cardinal points of the golden structure.
If any mortal had witnessed this being, they would have drowned instantly in the overwhelming tide of divinity.
Creation.
Origin.
Supreme.
Beginning.
God.
Words unrelated by logic fused seamlessly in its presence.
This sacred white being required no elaborate titles.
Three words were enough.
The Creator.
Arceus.
Here, in this silent and forgotten region of space, the Pokémon said to have shaped the world slept quietly.
The snoring that echoed across the void belonged to it.
Though born alongside the universe itself and wielding immeasurable power, Arceus remained, at its core, a living Pokémon.
Creating the world.
Maintaining balance for billions of years.
Sustaining the delicate order of existence.
The toll had been immense.
For the first time since its birth, Arceus had fallen into true, deep slumber.
And with sleep came dreams.
Behind the golden radiance of its body, faint pink-purple mist drifted in soft spirals.
It shimmered with a surreal, intoxicating aura.
This was no ordinary haze.
It was the physical manifestation of a dream shaped by divine power even in unconsciousness.
Even in its deepest rest, Arceus' power remained vast enough to turn its dream into tangible substance.
If Kael had stood here, he would have recognized that mist instantly.
It carried the same signature as the Nightmare Seeds that had ravaged the Pokémon world.
In this moment, every mystery unraveled.
The truth was stark.
Absurd.
Arceus had dreamed.
And in that dream, it had experienced a nightmare.
When its consciousness sank into its most tranquil state, fragments of its divine power intertwined unconsciously with that nightmare.
The dream gained form.
Then will.
Like a newborn unaware of good or evil, the nightmare detached from Arceus' slumber. Guided by instinct and a faint sense of familiarity, it journeyed across the cosmos returning to the place it recognized as home.
The Pokémon world.
It possessed no morality.
No intention to destroy.
It acted purely on instinct, unaware of the devastation it would cause.
Thus, while the Creator slept, its nightmare descended upon the world.
It became the Nightmare Seeds.
The force that nearly drove existence to collapse.
Cruel irony.
For centuries, humanity had fought desperately to survive.
Countless Pokémon had lost their minds, transformed into ravenous beasts.
Even the gods themselves had been pushed to the brink.
And the origin of that catastrophe—
Was nothing more than a dream.
The truth was merciless.
And impossibly tragic.
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~Support with 200 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter
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For early access to advanced chapters on P-atreon:
P-atreon/iamxeno
(Just remove the - hyphen to access normally)
Thank you so much for your support and for reading!