God Is a Seal

"That's the basic common knowledge of the Transcendence World. Do you want to try it yourself and create a few universes you like?"

"The Ghost Corpses possess limitless power and suffer no depletion. So long as it is within the limits of their abilities, no matter how many universes they create, they will remain as new as when they first left the factory."

Othinus raised a hand and pointed at the wooden cabin's walls, which were covered in golden patterns. She generously granted the Seal permission to use this Hyper-Turing Machine.

Although dimensional worlds ruled by powerful ghosts were subject to many rules, they were also protected by those rules.

As a weakling near the bottom of a vast ghost society, Othinus benefited more than she suffered from such restrictions.

Freedom, doing whatever one pleased, and ignoring the rules—those were privileges reserved for the strong.

The Seal stared at this Static Universe at Absolute Zero for a long while, then said gloomily,

"These people can't move or talk to me. They're just like sand on the beach. Not interesting at all."

"No, they're worse than sand. At least sand can be baked scorching hot by the sun and shaped into all sorts of interesting forms by tides and waves."

Ever since it had become a ghost, all the living things it had once seen had turned into these cold, motionless forms.

Clearly, it was the one that had died. Why had all these living people become motionless instead?

"Uh..."

Othinus blinked her left eye. This fellow truly lacked even the most basic common sense, and its capacity for learning and comprehension was terrible.

That shouldn't have been possible.

Transcendent ghosts were completely unconstrained by the physical conditions of the Material Universe. As long as they had even the slightest desire