The truck's horn blasted like a cacophonous symphony, cutting through the hot afternoon chaos of Mumbai. Ravi Sharma didn't think—he acted. His body collided with the child, sending them to the sidewalk as metal screeched and tires screamed. Pain exploded in his ribs, a white-hot climax that drowned out the gasps of the crowd. Asphalt tore at his cheek, and his eyes watered to the sound of a mother's hysterical crying.
Pathetic, he thought, the blood welling up beneath him. Twenty-seven years of microwave meals and spreadsheets, and this is how it all ends? Rescuing a child I'll never know? His mouth curled into a sneer. At least it's not dull.
Darkness engulfed him.
Ravi woke up to find himself in an endless expanse, stars spinning around him like a kid with a handful of sparkles. Standing before him was a figure—a silhouette made of spinning galaxies, its voice a chorus of supernovas.
"Ravi Sharma. How. quaint."
The creature laughed, nebulae flickering in its grasp.
"A mortal who dies a hero. Do you desire a reward? A second life?"
Ravi's eyebrow shot up. "Depends. Do you have anything with dragons? Magic? Perhaps a harem?"
The cosmos rippled with laughter. "How pedestrian. Very well. A new world, then. But choose wisely—your soul's desire shall shape your destiny."
Ravi smiled sarcastically. "Why not go with the joke? Why not make me the very Universe? The creator of worlds, beings, and even gods?"
Silence. Then—"…Interesting. Let's see how this farce unfolds." The entity snapped its fingers.
Reality shattered.
Sunlight fell upon Ravi's face as he stirred, his baby lungs drawing in air infused with magic. Wisdom flowed into him—the laws of physics, the threads of mana, the wails of starbirth. He curled a plump fist, and the clouds obligingly parted.
Therefore, it was not a dream.
Adopted by Garrick, a giant blacksmith with a laugh that grated like clashing metal, Ravi grew in Luminara—a city of crystal spires and floating market stalls. By day, he played the dutiful son, lugging ore and stumbling clumsily. Under the cover of darkness, he sculpted mountains with a thought and painted auroras across the skies, silencing snickers as villagers gasped at "divine miracles."
Garrick gave him a rusty knife when he was sixteen. "You've no smithing skills, boy," he growled, his eyes softening. "But Astra Academy takes anyone in. Even you."
Ravi smiled. Perfect.
Astra Academy loomed like a cage of gold, its white spires crawling with nobles peering down at commoners. Ravi wore his uniform loose, his posture slouchy, his mana core deliberately stunted.
"Hey, the blacksmith's runt!" Klaus, a blond aristocrat with a jawline a shade sharper than his intelligence, stood in his way. "Here to shine our boots?"
Ravi tripped over his own feet, books going airborne. "S-sorry! I'll just—"
Klaus kicked a book into the puddle. "Fetch, mongrel."
Laughter echoed. But when Ravi lowered himself, he saw a sudden movement—a girl with emerald-colored eyes and pointed ears, her hand with a slight tremble toward a sword.
Liora, he remembered. A half-elf outcast, her temper as fiery as her scarlet braid.
"Cut that out," she snarled. "Pick on someone you can fight with, Klaus."
The noble snorted. "You're defending trash? How in the el—"
Liora's blade hissed from its sheath. Klaus paled and fled, his cronies scrambling after.
"Thanks," Ravi grumbled, clearing his glasses of mud.
She tucked away her sword. "Don't thank me. Learn to fight."
Oh, I can ruin this world with a sigh, Ravi thought, holding back a smile. But where's the fun in that? Night fell upon Luminara, shrouding it in shadows. Ravi merged into the woods, his disguise dissolving like wax. Stardust spun into a cloak, his eyes burning like twin supernovae.
"Ahh, well. Bandits along the eastern road?" He snapped his fingers.
Mira, a shy academy healer trainee, shook with fear as goons closed in on her cart. "P-please, I don't have money!"
"Cause ain't money we're after," sneered the leader.
A chill ran through the air.
"Bugs."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. The bandits froze as he descended—a man clad in darkness itself, with stars sewn on his arms.
"W-what are you?!" the leader stuttered.
"The Universe," Ravi recited, relishing the drama. "And you're stains on my canvas."
With a swift motion of his wrist, the individuals vanished into luminous essence, their cries abruptly silenced.
Mira burst into tears, collapsing. "T-thank you, my lord!"
"Get up, child," he whispered, disappearing in a whirl of cosmos. Adoration's so boring… but practical.
In the subsequent fortnight, an exploratory field trip encountered unforeseen complications. Students were seized by panic as a scarlet rift ruptured the ground, releasing aerial entities with fiery fangs.
"Fall back!" cried Professor Alden, incinerating a monster with a fireball.
Ravi took cover behind a rock, pretending to be scared. Encore time.
Amidst the turmoil, he disappeared.
As The Universe, he hovered over the rift, yawned. "Demons? How clichéd." He waved a hand—and the chasm closed with a crack like breaking glass. The rest of the demons collapsed, their ashes coalescing into a perfect smiley face on the lawn.
"Impossible…" The silver-haired headmistress of the academy, Seraphina, appeared atop the cliff, her violet eyes slitted. "Who are you?"
"A storyteller," Ravi answered, disappearing into stardust. "And this world is my favorite story."
At camp, Ravi "stumbled" upon Klaus, splashing soup on his doublet.
"Clumsy fool!" Klaus roared.
"S-sorry! Let me clean—"
Liora observed, her eyes glued to Ravi's perfectly choreographed awkwardness.
Seraphina observed from her tower, a crystal orb replaying the closure of the rift. "An anomaly. or a god?"
And far above, in a realm of golden thrones, the God of War held his spear. "A mortal dares to assert creation? We shall rectify this mistake."
Ravi sat in his dorm, smiling at the ceiling. Fools. They'll never notice the strings. Somewhere, a cosmic entity chuckled.