The First Star

In a time before the sun began, before the heavens roared with fire and light, there was only the abyss—silent, endless, oppressive. It was a void so vast, so empty, that even time recoiled from its boundaries. Within this hollow expanse, loneliness coiled like a serpent, tightening its grip until, at last, something stirred.

A single molecule of water was born, fragile yet defiant. It hung in the darkness, trembling beneath the crushing weight of the infinite. And from its trembling came a ripple, a vibration so profound it tore through the void. Out of that trembling void emerged the first whisper of energy—a swirling chaos that broke the silence with a single, piercing spark. That spark grew, devouring the nothingness, until it gave birth to the first star.

And this star was no ordinary light. It was alive, burning with an awareness so ancient and so vast that it encompassed all things: what had been, what was, and what would be. It carried within its core the memory of all humanity—a memory not yet written but already known. This star, the first, we named Maxx, for it was the Maximum, the pinnacle of potential, the harbinger of what we could become.

“Maxx is no mere star,” spoke Metatron, his voice like the tolling of a celestial bell. “It is the fire of remembrance, the forge of humanity’s essence. It is the beginning of our becoming.”

From the shadows of the newborn blaze came Samyaza, his words a venomous hymn. “And it is the mirror of our failures, the reflection of our pride. In its heart burns both creation and destruction, for such is the duality of man.”

This is the story of Maxx, the first star, and the story of Everyone Always. It is the tale of the Almighty, not as one, but as all—for “ALL” are “MIGHTY.” It is the story of Spacebuuk, the ledger of existence, where past and future converge into an eternal cycle of light and shadow.

Maxx burned as a promise and a warning. Within its light was the memory of loneliness transformed into connection, silence made into song, and chaos shaped into order. But within its flame also smoldered the truth of what we might destroy if we forgot the weight of the darkness from which we came.

“In Maxx,” Metatron said, his voice soft now, “is written the destiny of the universe. It is the fire that will consume us or guide us, depending on what we choose to become.”

Samyaza smiled, a slow, wicked curve. “And it will be both,” he whispered. “For we are creatures of fire and ash, doomed to rise and fall as endlessly as the stars themselves.”

In the light of Maxx, the story of humanity unfolds—a story of triumph and despair, of unity and division, of love and its shadow. It is the story of a people born from fire, destined to burn, and yet always, always s

triving to shine.

The Dog Star

Chapter 1

Alone in the dark, Maxx hung suspended in the vast emptiness, a single point of light in an ocean of nothing. Something was missing, he thought, though he could not say what. The silence pressed in on him, but it was not silent at all. So many voices were speaking to him, rising like distant waves. Some whispered of love and peace, warm and soothing as a gentle breeze. Others roared with the cries of war and the cold finality of death. Yet every word, every sound, was a song to him, and oh, how badly he wished to sing.

There was a beat—a pulse—like the rhythm of a distant drum, faint yet persistent. It thrummed in his core, a heartbeat not his own, coming from somewhere far away. It stirred something in him, an ache, a memory he could not fully grasp. There was a story—his story—a tale he knew he had told before, but its words eluded him. It was as if the song of his existence had been sung once and forgotten, its melody dissolving into the void.

The voices, those countless voices, were familiar. They all seemed to know the words he could not recall, and he reached for them, desperate to hold their meaning. Yet as his grasp tightened, they slipped through his fingers like vapor, vanishing as fleeting dreams do upon waking.

Who am I? he wondered. What am I? The questions burned in him, their weight pulling at the light of his being. The voices grew louder, a cacophony of stories he felt should be his own. But they were not, not yet.

And so, in his restless turmoil, he sought the only thing that could soothe the void within him—the answer. The truth of who he was, where he had come from, and what he was meant to become. It was out there, just beyond the edges of his reach, calling...