Chapter 8: Chapter 7 – Creation (2)

"Create... a sun..." - My voice came out shaky with fear of what could happen, after all, it was an irresponsible and unplanned decision.

[ Creating: “Sun” ]

[ Do you want to customize? ]

“Can I customize?”

"Yea..." - i said.

[ Select: ]

[ Size: 1000km ]

[Geopoint: 0, 0, 0 (x, y, z) ]

“Zero would be where I am...? If I had created him now I would probably burn to death..."

“Geopoint at 20,000, 0, 0. I think that's far enough...”

[Starting creation]

[■■■ Loading ■■■]

[ Failure chance: 67% ]

“Now I depend on my luck again...”

[Creation was a success]

When such a message appeared, an intense light began to fill the void, my body felt a heat fill my body, starting with my skin.

However, at the same time, my body began to be slowly pulled towards the large plasma star.

"Gravity... What the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" - I said as I thought of a solution to my problem, evaluating all the skills I had.

“Skills, go fast, go”

[ Skills ]

Ignoring all the attack skills, I go directly to the ones that were generated with the adaptation, hoping that something there could save me.

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[Passive skill: Fire Resistance LVL Max]

"Oh... is this good for plasma?" – I thought as I approached quickly towards the sun, my body was gradually getting hotter.

As he got even closer, I could again feel my eyelids getting heavier and my vision blurring...

"I'm passing out very often..." - He said before falling into a deep sleep...

***

"Boy... hey boy, wake up"

"... Hmm...?"

Looking around, I see a white room, with a horizontal blue stripe present on the walls, some gray plastic chairs and a desk.

Looking deeper, on the same wall was a panel on the wall, with the symbol of the police of England...

Who called me was a tall man, wearing a navy blue suit, a hat with a yellow symbol on it, his clothes, no, his uniform was clean and perfectly pressed, leaving no dents behind.

"Hey boy, can you hear me?"

"Yes sir, sorry, I fell asleep..." - I said, however, it wasn't me who said it, I didn't even open my mouth to say - "Oh, my parents... are they ok?"

“Another vision…?” - I thought; in the white room there was a mirror, what it reflected was a child of 8 to 9 years old, with yellow eyes and dark brown hair that went up to his shoulder.

"About your parents... I'm sorry boy, I didn't want to give you this news..."

I feel something wet form in my eyes, tears were welling up.

Me, no, the boy was holding back his tears to keep from crying, holding on and holding back all his pain and sadness.

In the room where he was, enters a tall woman, white as snow and silver hair...

“Silver Queen...”  - almost unconscious this sentence forms in my mind.

***

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