Old Man First chuckled softly, the sound filled with quiet resignation. "No. Even I, with my mastery over the laws of ti, could not withstand the strain. The mont I attempted it, I felt the structure of my existence begin to unravel. I had to abandon the idea before it destroyed . The technique is not ant for those who seek power—it is ant for those who embody perfect harmony between space and ti, sothing that may not even be possible for beings of our reality."
He turned his eyes back to Max, and the faint smile returned to his lips. "But you, Max… your body already holds the balance between contradictions—fla and ice, devouring and serenity, destruction and creation. You have already achieved what most would call impossible. That is why I brought you here."
Max's expression grew serious. He understood now why the old man had shown him the birth of a planet. Creation itself was a balance between chaos and order, between stillness and flow—the perfect harmony of space and ti.
"So," Max said slowly, "you think I could achieve what others couldn't?"
Old Man First nodded slightly. "Yes, you may be the first being capable of fulfilling the conditions of the technique. If you can learn to separate ti and space within yourself—to let them coexist without conflict—you might one day be able to use this technique."
His glead with an almost ancient light as he continued, his tone steady and patient. "But creating a clone," he said slowly, "is not as simple as splitting one's essence and forming a reflection of oneself. It is closer to creating a new life entirely, a being with its own will and existence. And more importantly, creating a clone capable of correlating with ti itself is not a task that any ordinary being could accomplish. It is sothing that defies the normal principles of life and creation."
He lifted his hand toward the endless expanse ahead, where an enormous sphere of golden mist floated in the void. The light it emitted was soft, warm, and strangely tranquil, as if it pulsed in rhythm with the heartbeat of the universe.
"Fortunately," Old Man First continued, "This technique relates to the essence of ti itself. And because of that technique, we stand here before this—an embryonic form of a seed of a world. A world that has yet to be born. A world waiting for ti to breathe life into it."
Max frowned slightly as he looked at the radiant mass before him. The energy radiating from it was unlike anything he had ever felt. It wasn't chaotic like divine essence, nor oppressive like the power of a supre being. It was gentle yet infinite, a living stillness that seed to exist beyond his understanding.
"I don't fully understand," he admitted. "How can a seed of a world help create a clone? And what does it an to correlate it with ti?"
Old Man First smiled faintly, as though he had expected the question. "You see, Max," he said, "life cannot co from nothing. It is a truth written into the fabric of existence. Even the strongest beings of the Divine Realm—those who can destroy a thousand stars with a single strike—cannot truly create life from nothing. They can shape, they can forge, they can awaken, but they cannot create existence where none exists. Every act of creation requires sothing to anchor it, sothing that already holds the potential of life within it."
He gestured toward the embryonic sphere again. "This is such an anchor. What you see before you is the embryonic form of a world—what would one day beco a planet, complete with its own essence, its own rhythm, and its own path of evolution. It has not yet been born, which ans its connection to ti has not begun. It exists in a state of perfect stillness, untouched by causality. To most, it is a slumbering seed. To us, it is the foundation upon which life can be built."
Max's gaze deepened as he tried to understand. The sphere pulsed softly, as though it were breathing. "So this… is alive?"
Old Man First nodded. "In its own way, yes. Not in the sense of blood and soul as we understand it, but in the sense of will. It is a form of life at its purest and most primitive level—a will of creation itself. Within it lies everything that defines existence: order, chaos, space, ti, and the faint beginning of what we call spirit. It is not yet aware, but it is alive in potential."
He paused for a mont before adding, "The technique I speak of is called Chrono Genesis. It allows one to use the embryonic essence of a world to birth a reflection of the self—one bound not by the law of causality but by the rhythm of ti itself. The clone created through this thod will not rely be a duplicate. It will be a being born as a part of the universe's natural order. Its soul will resonate with the pulse of ti, and because of that, causality cannot influence it. The universe does not question the flow of its own heartbeat."
Max's expression slowly changed as realization dawned on him. "You an the clone… would be like the will of a planet?"
"Exactly," Old Man First said with a faint nod. "A part of the world, a living embodint of creation's intent. That is what makes it perfect for comprehending ti. Because causality binds everything that exists within the flow of ti—but not sothing it is part of. The will of a world is a part of the natural order making the clone also a part of the natural order and because of this law of causality will ignore your clone as it will perceive your clone not as a part of you but as a part of the world, a part of the nature itself."
He began to walk toward the embryonic sphere, his hands clasped behind his back, his robes swaying softly in the faint golden light. "Understand this, Max," he said as his voice echoed across the stillness of the stars. "When a clone is created using ordinary ans, it carries your essence—your energy, your laws, and your flaws. That is why no one has ever succeeded in creating a clone capable of understanding the concept of ti. The mont it inherits the law of causality from its origin, it becos trapped within it. But when a clone is born through the will of a world, it inherits neutrality. It carries no karma, no cause, and no effect. It exists as the world's own expression of being. And so, it can perceive ti without being bound by it."
Max listened intently. The explanation was beyond anything he had heard before. The thought that he could create a clone that existed outside of causality—a being that could comprehend ti itself—was both astonishing and terrifying.
"But wouldn't such a clone still be… ?" he asked quietly. "Wouldn't it still carry my consciousness, my will?"
Old Man First turned to him, his expression calm. "Yes, it will be you, it will be your soul but for the law of casualty, it will perceive you as sothing related to the nature, a part of the growing universe."
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