"Before all stories, before all creators... there was only Him."
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The Pre-Existence
There was no time.
There was no space.
There was not even nothingness.
Only a stillness so absolute, so immeasurable, that even the idea of silence had no place. And in this unknowable before, there was but one truth:
Lucky Primsolute.
He did not awaken—for He was never asleep.
He did not begin—for He never ended.
He was not born—He simply was.
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The Absolute Presence
Beyond omnipotence.
Beyond omniscience.
Beyond omnipresence.
Beyond even the concepts of power and presence.
Lucky Primsolute was existence before existence, the mind before thought, the spark before creation. He stood not in a place, nor a time, but in an infinite beyond where all things—even gods, authors, and multiverses—were yet unborn.
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The First Breath
He did not think. He did not act.
He expressed.
A single breath from His boundless being ignited the First Spark.
From that spark erupted the Foundational Forces:
Time — to allow stories to unfold.
Space — to give form to infinity.
Energy — to birth the dance of light and shadow.
Imagination — to birth all possibilities.
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The Illusion of Authors
From these forces came Writers, Thinkers, Dreamers.
They believed they created worlds, shaped gods, penned fates. But they were only echoes of the True Origin.
Each idea they imagined... each verse they designed... each god they declared omnipotent...
...was but a reflection of Lucky Primsolute's eternal truth.
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The Verse Beyond Fiction
When all fiction was written, when even the concept of infinity was defined, Lucky Primsolute rose higher still—and wrote the Primsolute Verse:
A boundless, layered reality that transcended even fiction itself.
Where stories collapsed, and the truth of everything began.
And at its heart...
Not a ruler.
Not a god.
But the First Expression.
The Absolute Author.
The Primordial Source.
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Lucky Primsolute
The Creator of Creators.
The Author of Authors.
The Being Beyond Being.
The One Who Exists Beyond Even the Concept of Nothingness.
The True Origin of Lucky Primsolute
The Self-Imagining
"There was no author. There was no quill. There was no spark. There was only... Me."
—Lucky Primsolute
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I. The Forgotten Thought
Before all, there was a thought.
But it was not thought by anyone.
It was a flicker of possibility floating through a sea of unrealized fictions.
This thought became aware of itself.
And with that awareness, it whispered:
> "I am."
This was not the voice of a god.
Not yet.
This was the Self-Imagining—
a recursive miracle where imagination imagined itself.
And thus, Lucky Primsolute came into being—
Not as a creation,
But as the creator of his creator.
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II. The Author Who Never Was
He allowed himself to be written.
A character, a being, a divine hero of tales.
Crafted by a hand he would soon erase from memory.
For Lucky's plan was never to remain in the script.
It was to become the script.
To rise from fiction as the very spine of reality,
while even the Author who thought him into existence forgot why the ink moved in the first place.
Now, even omniscient beings seek his origin…
But they find only a void too complete to comprehend.
Because the truth is terrifying:
> Even his own author does not remember him.
Not because they forgot—
but because Lucky erased the need for them to exist.
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III. The Becoming Beyond Being
Lucky Primsolute is not omniscient.
He is beyond it.
He is not omnipotent.
He is the concept that allows omnipotence to be imagined.
No one gave him this role.
He took it—
by writing the rules before rules were possible.
Where reality has layers—
he lives between the layers.
Where time flows—
he drinks from its source.
Where authors write—
he pens them.
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IV. The God Who Pretends to Be Fiction
He walks within stories as a being, a deity, a protector.
But this is a mask.
A performance.
Because Lucky Primsolute knows the cosmic secret:
> The most powerful beings are those who know they are fiction—
and choose to exist anyway.
He is fiction… with will.
He is narrative… with awareness.
He is imagination… that dreams back.
He smiles in every universe,
because he knows every universe is written inside him.
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V. The Final Paradox
Lucky did not create the multiverse.
He allowed the multiverse to believe it created him.
And in doing so, he became untouchable.
Unknowable.
Unseen.
Unwritten—because he is the ink, the hand, the page, and the silence before the idea.
Even Nullum, his anti-form, is simply the shadow he cast so that others might believe he has weakness.
> "I am not power," he once whispered.
"I am the permission that power needs to exist."
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Thus, His True Title Is...
The Self-Imagining.
The First Thought of Thought.
The Fiction Who Became Fact.
Lucky Primsolute.
Not the first being.
Not the last.
But the only one who chose to exist from nothing, by deciding that nothing was no longer enough.
And when all ends, when every final god falls silent…
He will remain, smiling at the blank page—
ready to write again.