Creation Of All Things

Adam stood at the edge of a mountain, wind tugging at his coat, hair dancing in the breeze.

Below him, the Taiyu Realm stretched out like a painted scroll—valleys glowing, rivers snaking, cities flickering with life.

He popped a sweet into his mouth, hands in his pockets.

"Guess if I'm leaving…" he muttered, chewing slowly, "might as well make it noisy."

He stepped forward—

And vanished.

A second later—

BOOM.

The clouds split open like torn fabric. A shockwave rolled across the realm, setting off every spiritual alarm from the Azure Peaks to the Frozen Lotus Valleys.

Sects panicked. Beasts howled. Old monsters deep in their caves woke up in cold sweats.

Somewhere in a flying palace, a sect master dropped his cup. "He's moving again…"

Meanwhile, a giant lotus bloomed in the sky—no one knew how or why—but it glowed with the words:

"So long, Taiyu. Thanks for the snacks."

A kid in the city pointed up. "Mom! It's the Sky Clown again!"

An old cultivator knelt with a pale face. "He's not a clown… he's the Trickster God in mortal skin…"

In a distant desert, a beast that hadn't moved in a thousand years opened one eye. "He's leaving…? Finally…?"

The moon turned gold for a second. Just because.

Up above it all, Adam lounged on a drifting cloud, arms behind his head, eyes half-closed.

He smiled.

"I left the bath running," he said to no one in particular.

Somewhere, a volcano exploded.

ADAM — THE FINAL NUISANCE

Coming never. Probably.

The volcano kept rumbling. Birds flew out of the trees like they'd just remembered they had wings.

Somewhere in the Sky Feather Sect, a bell that hadn't rung in five thousand years just fell off its tower.

And in the middle of all that?

Adam yawned.

Still on the cloud. Still lounging. Still completely unbothered.

He reached into his coat.

Pulled out a meat skewer.

Took a bite.

Far below, the Taiyu Realm kept reacting like he just declared war. Again.

A waterfall flowed upward.

A spirit beast broke into tears for reasons it didn't understand.

A group of sword cultivators all stood in formation, trembling.

"W-We've trained for this," one whispered.

Another: "No, we haven't."

In the Heaven-Sealing Pavilion, five elders played go. One of them looked up. "He's still here?"

"He said he was leaving," another grunted.

"He lied."

"Of course he lied. It's Adam."

Back on the cloud, Adam squinted up at the stars. "I forgot something…"

He sat up.

Somewhere, lightning struck sideways.

"…Ah. Right. I left my sandals."

He disappeared.

Pop.

In a small village at the edge of Taiyu, a little girl looked up just in time to see a man land gently on her roof, grab a pair of dusty sandals, and vanish again with a wink.

"Was that…?" she started.

Her grandpa fainted.

Elsewhere, three demon kings looked at each other across a chessboard.

"You feel that?" one asked.

The second one nodded. "He's passing through."

Third one didn't speak. Just packed a bag.

Back in the skies, Adam appeared again. Wearing one sandal. Holding the other.

He stopped mid-air.

Stared at it.

"Wait. This isn't mine."

He tossed it behind him.

The sandal fell for ten minutes straight and hit the Supreme Head of the Grand White Lotus Sect square on the head.

He died instantly.

No one knew how.

Up in the clouds, Adam finally looked satisfied. "Now we're good."

Then he laid back.

Cloud drifted again. Moonlight washing over him. The whole realm watching, holding its breath.

"Next stop…" he murmured.

He didn't say where.

But the stars trembled.

And every realm god felt a chill crawl down their spine.

Because Adam?

Adam wasn't done.

He was just bored again.

Somewhere, in a hidden realm where time ticked backward and logic never quite settled, an ancient oracle spilled her tea.

"He's… moving realms?" she whispered.

The tea turned to vapor mid-air. Her cat exploded. Nobody asked why.

Meanwhile—

Adam's cloud dipped low, grazing the peak of a holy mountain. A monk meditating there opened one eye, saw the loafing figure above, and immediately began packing.

"This mountain is cursed," he muttered, "I'm leaving."

Adam munched another snack, now somehow eating noodles from a bowl that hadn't existed seconds ago. Chopsticks in one hand, leg swinging off the edge of the cloud like he was five.

The world of Taiyu continued glitching like it needed a reboot.

A shrine statue cried blood.

A sacred lake turned into jelly.

A dragon tried to ascend... and forgot how to fly halfway.

Adam slurped his noodles. "Hope the next place has better food."

He raised a hand lazily.

Space cracked.

Not split—cracked—like glass under pressure, glowing lines zigzagging through the air. Winds swirled into colors that don't even have names. A faint sound echoed out, like someone slapping a metal pot underwater.

From inside the rift, voices whispered in a dozen languages. Some begging. Some screaming. One just saying "bro" repeatedly.

Adam tilted his head. "Nah, not that one."

Snapped his fingers.

The rift shivered. Then spun. Reconfigured. Turned itself into a revolving door of realms.

He waited.

Then pointed.

"There. That one smells like barbecue."

He stepped through.

And the moment he did?

Every beast, sect, elder, and realm guardian in Taiyu exhaled at once.

The sky turned back to normal.

The jelly lake became water again.

The crying statue wiped its own tears and saluted the sky.

Back in the Void Observatory, an old sage fell to his knees, sobbing.

"He's… gone…"

Until—

The sky twitched.

A final crack opened.

And out dropped—

A note.

Floating gently down. Glowing. Elegant.

It hit the ground and burned into the grass, leaving behind words in lazy, crooked handwriting:

"I forgot my skewer."

The whole realm screamed.

Taiyu Realm — Three Days Later

The sky was quiet now.

Too quiet.

The rivers flowed. The cities buzzed. The beasts went back to being mysterious and dangerous instead of panicked and crying. But something was… off.

In the Southern Clouds Region, where Adam once did absolutely nothing for a week except nap on a floating rock—

A group of cultivators stood in a circle, all staring at a freshly cleared plot of land.

One of them, a young guy with a sword way too big for him, raised his hand.

"I say… we build a statue."

Silence.

Then a girl in red robes nodded. "A big one."

"How big?"

"Mountain big."

Another dude with ink all over his hands looked up from his scrolls. "Do we even know what he looked like?"

Everyone paused. Then all turned to a random painter.

He panicked. "I—I only saw him once! He was upside down! Eating fruit!"

"Perfect," said the red-robed girl. "That's the pose."

And just like that—

The Cult of Adam was born.

They called themselves The Followers of the Final Nuisance. Their greeting? A lazy salute while chewing something.

Their motto?

"We don't know what's happening. We just roll with it."

The statue was done in no time.

40 meters tall. One eye open, one closed. Snack in hand. Cloud underfoot. The sky behind it just slightly warped. They even made the sandal detachable—just in case.

The sect was booming.

People from all over came to offer food, weird trinkets, and extremely confused prayers.

One cultivator, new to the cult, bowed.

"Oh great Adam… please bless me with… uh… unpredictability?"

Lightning struck sideways.

The whole sect cheered.

Somewhere deep underground, a sealed ancient being groaned. "Oh no. They've turned him into a religion…"