The laws governing celestial motion suddenly fell into chaos. Asteroids and planetoids drifted from their orbits, while solid methane and ethane planetoids continuously fused under anomalous gravity. Collisions of immense kinetic force generated vast accumulations of heat, much like the repeated impacts between planets in their infancy and asteroids that heated their cores.
The relatively weak gravity barely held the newly born magma plates to the surface, separated from the solid combustible gases by only a hair's breadth. Dense mist rose from the rough junctions of planetoid plates that had not yet curved under their own gravity, bringing gaseous water—the first necessity for a habitable world—to life. Though no sound could be heard, this accelerated reenactment of the epic spectacle of ice and fire in space at a planet's birth, using materials from the Solar System's formation, was enough to leave one spellbound and marveling at one's own insignificance and ignorance.
Unless the architect of these sights was a pair of inhuman giant hands reaching out from Hell, forcibly crushing together planetoids that did not belong to the same orbit through sheer violence. At the center of that blazing core, a gigantic serpent dozens of kilometers long struggled relentlessly within the gradually forming dense core of molten iron. A warrior clad in golden armor shot like a comet through curtains of magma floating in the low-gravity environment and burning solid flammable gases. Sword in hand, he plunged toward the colossal serpent in the newborn core, through the flames and thick white smoke billowing from below, like an angel from ancient myth falling into Hell.
His crimson battle cloak burned away in the lava. His blood vessels thundered like cannons, and supernatural power unnaturally spilled from his eyes. His helmet had long since been discarded. His long black hair, held in