Creation Of All Things

The sky cracked open like someone split a painting.

Light spilled down—not warm, not golden, but cold and silver, like moonlight dipped in ice water.

A giant sigil flickered into existence midair. Glowed. Fizzled. Then popped like a bubble.

Nothing happened.

Then—

BOOM.

A crater appeared in the middle of the market. No flash, no warning. Just gone. Stalls, lanterns, a very confused donkey—all wiped clean like someone hit delete.

And in the center?

A man.

Cloak like a shadow. Hair like ink poured over snow. Eyes shut, hands in sleeves, just standing there while wind coiled around him like it was scared to touch.

People ran. Screamed. Someone threw a cabbage.

Adam reappeared mid-bite beside the same pastry stall. Still chewing.

He glanced sideways. "What, again?"

The shadowy guy didn't move. Didn't even breathe. Just opened one eye.

Crack.

Lightning snaked through the sky behind him like a special effect someone paid too much budget for.

Adam sighed, powdered sugar puffing off his lips. "You could've sent a damn message."

The man spoke without opening his mouth. Voice hit like a whisper shoved through a thunderclap.

"Return."

Adam licked his thumb. "Nah."

The clouds rolled. Buildings trembled. A floating pagoda in the distance actually started sinking like it gave up early.

A hundred figures blinked into view around the city. Robes. Swords. Flags with symbols that glowed like someone photoshopped them into reality.

One shouted, "The Void Sage is here!"

Someone else screamed, "It's Adam vs. the Eternal Agent!"

Another disciple fainted.

Adam scratched his head. "Who keeps naming these dudes?"

A pause.

Then the sky cracked again—BOOM—and the cloaked figure vanished.

Reappeared right in front of Adam.

Fist drawn back.

Everything slowed.

Vendors froze mid-yell. Flames paused mid-flicker. Even the wind stopped like it wanted to see what would happen next.

Adam looked bored. He blinked.

And gently raised the pastry.

Smack.

Pastry met fist.

Shockwave.

Half the city blew backward like someone flipped a fan on max. Dust, tiles, people, chickens—gone.

The cloaked man stood there, arm shaking, covered in cream and flakes.

Adam chewed the last bite. "That was the last one, y'know."

The guy twitched.

And fell backward.

Didn't explode. Didn't scream. Just slumped.

Out cold.

Adam looked down at him. Then looked up.

All the disciples floating above?

Backed away in unison.

Someone whispered, "He used… the Sacred Pastry Parry…"

Adam wiped his fingers on his pants. "No, I just didn't want to drop my dessert."

A beat.

He turned, hands in pockets, walking away like none of this was his business.

Behind him, the cratered square started glowing. The cloaked guy floated up, wrapped in a scroll that sealed him like a present.

Back in the shadows of the Heavenly Sky Domain, the silver-haired kid from before was shaking.

"He—he countered the Void Pulse…"

The tea drinker sighed. "Told you."

"Do we… try again?"

The man poured another cup. "Nope."

"Then what do we do?"

"…Pray he gets bored again."

—

Back in the city, Adam sat back down on the bathhouse roof, legs dangling, hair messy from wind, face lit by the rising moon.

He pulled out another skewer from who-knows-where.

Took a bite.

"Man," he muttered, watching the stars. "This vacation's wild."

And somewhere far, far above, a god tried to rewrite fate again.

Adam burped.

Fate paused.

"…Not today," he whispered.

And just like that, he vanished.

Again.

A breeze rolled across the ruins of the city square, lifting bits of ash, pastry flakes, and a single confused feather into the air.

High above, disciples whispered. Some still holding swords. Some holding each other.

"He really just… disappeared."

"With a burp."

"I heard he once slapped a dragon out of a storm because it was being loud."

"No, no, my cousin said he beat the Flame Monarch in a drinking contest. While asleep."

They looked down at the slowly repairing crater, the sealed scroll still glowing faintly like a nightlight someone forgot to turn off.

And someone, somewhere, said it out loud:

"The Unbothered One."

A pause.

Another voice, breathless:

"Snack God Adam."

Then:

"Pastry Parry Prodigy."

And someone added with a shiver,

"He Who Fights Between Bites…"

Names started flying.

"The Chillest Under Heaven."

"Lord Leisure."

"One Chew Man."

A banner flapped. Someone painted a donut on it. Probably as a joke. Probably.

But the stories spread fast—like fire in dry grass.

—

A foggy mountain range. Monks doing handstands on bamboo poles.

One monk stumbles.

Another gasps. "Concentrate! What if he walks past right now?!"

"Who?"

"The One Who Made the Void Sage Flinch!"

The wind answered for him. A paper bag flew past with Adam's face drawn on it in charcoal.

—

Deep sea temple. Giant turtle cultivators humming under the waves.

An elder coughed. "The Sacred Pastry Parry… I thought it was just a legend."

"No, master," said the turtle apprentice. "He used a cream-filled variant."

The elder wept silently. "A forbidden filling…"

—

Meanwhile.

Adam stood at the edge of a cliff. Ocean breeze, stars blinking like confused fireflies.

He scratched his neck. "Why is everyone staring all the time?"

Behind him, three sword saints were hiding in a bush, sketching his posture.

"He's forming a new stance."

"Call it… Moonlight Snack Eater Style!"

He sneezed.

All three fainted.

—

Somewhere else, way up above the clouds, a council of gods sat nervously around a glowing table.

"He rejected fate again."

A lower deity nodded. "He also ate my ambrosia pie. Said it was mid."

Silence.

Then the oldest god spoke. "Perhaps we let him… be."

"But—he's mortal."

"Is he?"

They didn't answer.

—

Back in the city, a little kid ran up to a noodle vendor.

"Mister, do you think Snack God will come back?"

The vendor smiled, stirring his pot. "Kid, if he smells food, he's already halfway here."

And somewhere not far off, in the shadow of a quiet alley, a man yawned, hands behind his head, leaning against a wall.

Adam looked at the moon.

"Built myself a little persona here, even if it's just a fool's mask. But hey, it was fun while it lasted." Adam said, stretching his body.