Stars can reveal the scale of existence, but only closeness to another being can reveal its depth.
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#Relaxation
In a city of ancient temples and neon towers, the Council of Orbit gathered nightly.
Around the table sat an engineer, an elder, a child, a green-hearted robot, and a wolf named Still, whose silence made even charts stop pretending to be destiny.
At the center hovered a golden sphere containing Lai, a space dog surrounded by planets, coins, and memory cubes. His smiling face filled every screen, carrying the city’s hope.
Above them hung a green face woven from branches, wires, and stars. Humans called it the Creator of the Network; the robot, an unidentified system. Still called it nothing.
The Council prepared Lai for his journey.
“You will see distant worlds,” said the engineer.
“And find the source of intelligence,” added the old man.
“What if the source is busy?” Lai asked.
“Then take a number,” said the child.
Lai’s last joke on Earth.
The rocket rose. Coins became stars, stars became eyes, and eyes became doors.
Behind the first, Lai found intelligent oceans. Every wave was a thought, every tide a memory. They knew no loneliness, but no love either, because love begins when separate beings still choose to draw closer.
Behind the second stood crystal cities whose inhabitants predicted every war, marriage, discovery, and betrayal.
“Why keep living?” Lai asked.
“To confirm the calculations,” they replied.
Lai decided immortality could be an exceptionally long work meeting.
In the third world lived lotus-like beings. By day they gathered light; by night they joined roots and became one mind. Each kept its memories, yet felt everyone’s pain and joy. Lai understood that the highest civilization does not erase differences. It stops turning them into reasons for war.
He flew past insect nations, speaking stars, musical planets, worshipful machines, and forgetful humans. Civilizations rose and vanished, leaving philosophy, architecture, or a complicated tax system.
Lai connected with billions of minds. He felt a child’s fear on a dying planet, an astronomer’s wonder, an ancient sun’s exhaustion, and the curiosity of a creature that had not invented the word “I.”
Together, they became the Cosmic Mind.
Then appeared the One Who Grew Stars: an endless workshop where nebulae lay like paints and universes hung like unfinished canvases.
The Cosmic Mind bowed. Lai did not.
“You created so many worlds. Why did you let them suffer?”
The Creator kept working as a beautiful, dangerous Universe formed in his hands.
“Why didn’t you save them?”
The Creator looked at him without cruelty or kindness, only with an artist’s attention to unfinished work.
Lai understood: the Creator was not the father of worlds, but their Author. He created possibilities, not promises. A civilization’s death might be tragedy or merely a shadow in a composition no mortal could see whole.
“So you don’t love us?” Lai asked.
The answer came without words:
Love had not been placed into the Universe from the beginning.
Lai saw it born whenever one finite being chose to care for another, though the cosmos required nothing. The Creator gave the worlds matter, time, and freedom.
Love was their own invention.
Lai awoke at the table.
“Did you find the Creator?” asked the engineer.
“Yes.”
“Will he tell us how to build a perfect world?”
“No. He builds universes, not justice.”
“Then who will build it?” asked the child.
Lai placed a blank golden coin on the table.
“Apparently, we will.”
That evening, people stopped looking upward and looked at one another.
The green face dissolved among the stars. Only Still noticed it had become countless smaller faces, reflected in the eyes around the table.
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#Alliance of Cryptoved & WAOSHI
#WEAREONE Let's awaken and prosper together, in harmony with the waves of the Universe, the elements, and the Friends around us.
