Chapter 3: The World of His Design

Milton stood in the vastness of space, gazing upon the new world he had just brought into existence. This world was not Earth, nor was it any other place the gods had known. It was his world—his creation, the embodiment of his vision of paradise, and a stage upon which the future of the cosmos would unfold.

He called it Novus Mundus, the "New World," but it was unlike anything that had ever existed. With the power of the gods coursing through him, Milton shaped it not according to the limitations of nature, but according to the limitless potential of his imagination.

The Land: 

Milton raised his hand, and continents formed beneath him, vast and diverse. Towering mountains kissed the sky, their peaks cloaked in eternal snow, while emerald valleys stretched between them, rich with life. Rivers and lakes of crystal-clear water sparkled under a golden sun that shone softly, never too harshly, never fading into night unless Milton willed it.

Each continent was different—a realm of fire and volcanoes, another of forests so deep that light barely reached the ground, a desert where the sand shimmered like precious stones. Oceans teemed with life, their waters swirling with colors beyond the human spectrum. The ground beneath his feet was warm, fertile, and ready to support life.

 The Sky: 

Milton stretched his fingers toward the heavens, and with a thought, shaped the atmosphere. He envisioned clouds of silver and gold, swirling in intricate patterns, moving according to rhythms that he alone controlled. The sky was a canvas for his dreams, not confined to blue. At times it was fiery orange, at others, deep violet, or shimmering with countless stars that never disappeared. In the day, the sky was lit by twin suns, one white and the other a faint red glow. At night, a constellation of moons, each different in size and hue, would dance overhead. 

The winds blew softly, carrying with them the scents of flowers and the songs of birds. Storms would come only when Milton desired, bringing rain and thunder as expressions of the world's life force.

The Creatures: 

Life itself was the next step. Milton had witnessed the failures of creation and the pitfalls of free will. He had seen angels fall, men sin, and demons rise in rebellion. This time, he would do it differently. 

He began with the smallest forms of life—tiny creatures, insects, fish, and birds. Each one was unique, carefully crafted with intricate designs and vibrant colors. They fluttered into existence, swarming through the skies, swimming in the seas, and filling the air with life.

Then came the larger creatures: great beasts that roamed the forests and plains. Milton designed them to be beautiful, powerful, and harmonious. Lions with golden fur, their roars echoing like thunder; towering creatures that resembled the elephants of Earth, but with wings and eyes that glowed like the stars. In the seas, great leviathans swam, their bodies reflecting the light of the twin suns as they moved gracefully through the water.

But the true crown of Milton's creation would be sentient life—beings who could think, speak, and feel as he did. He envisioned them as perfect forms, free from the flaws of humanity, untainted by the original sin that had plagued Earth. These beings would be a reflection of his highest ideals.

With a wave of his hand, they came into existence.

The First People: 

Milton created a race of people that were both familiar and alien to his past understanding of humanity. Their bodies were sleek, strong, and radiant, with skin that shimmered like polished stone. Their eyes glowed with wisdom and clarity, seeing not just the world around them, but the threads of reality itself. They were not bound by fear or ignorance, for Milton had imbued them with knowledge of the world and their place in it from the moment they were born.

 He named them Aurelians, for they were beings of light and knowledge. They were wise and peaceful, but not without passion. They would have the power to shape their own destiny, but without the need for violence or greed. Their society would be based on harmony, reason, and the pursuit of beauty.

Milton placed them in cities of crystal and stone, their homes blending seamlessly into the landscape. The Aurelians, grateful for their existence, knelt before their creator, offering him reverence not out of fear, but out of admiration for the world he had made. 

Milton watched them with pride, yet there was a lingering uncertainty. Would they, too, fall? Was perfection truly attainable?