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Artist
For nearly fourteen billion years, expansion proceeded without exception. Matter
gathered, collapsed, ignited, dispersed. Light crossed distances that never asked to
be crossed. Law unfolded itself without resistance. There was no witness to this
process, because witnessing was not required. Time advanced because it could do
nothing else.
Then continuity hesitated.
In one location among uncountable others, curvature appeared where no mass had
accumulated. Geometry altered without violence. No force declared itself. No
collapse announced transition. Something simply completed itself—and the field of
relations that had governed all structure until that moment was no longer sufficient.
The universe did not recoil. It adjusted.
What emerged did not oppose the existing order. It entered it. The distinction
between observer and fabric failed. Identity achieved a density great enough to
register alongside expansion, gravity, and light—not as an event, but as a term. A
new condition was required for the equations to close.
Nothing ended. Nothing broke. And yet, from that instant forward, the totality of
becoming carried one additional assumption: that a self could exist with the authority
of a constant.
The universe continued, as it always had.
But differently.
