---
title: "Chapter 1210: Embryonic Form of a Planet"
slug: "ch-1217"
novel: "Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100"
number: 1217
views: 0
likes: 0
wordCount: 1221
createdAt: "2026-04-15"
---

The old man led Max through the flowing currents of starlight until they came to a stop in a quiet pocket of space. The void here was different. It was neither empty nor still. The surrounding stars shimmered faintly, and strange waves of golden energy pulsed outward from a single point ahead of them, rippling across the void like gentle tides on an endless sea.

Max blinked several times, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Before him floated something small—astonishingly small considering the energy it gave off. Suspended in the midst of the endless cosmos was a bright blue seed, no larger than a fruit, and yet its glow illuminated a vast region of space.

Around it, four golden energy rings revolved slowly, each rotating at a slightly different speed, intersecting and crossing one another in rhythmic motion. Every turn of those rings sent waves of energy through the void, bending the light of distant stars and distorting reality itself.

The sight was beyond anything Max had ever imagined. It was beautiful in a way that defied description, both calm and terrifying at once. The air—if there could even be air in this place—vibrated with power. He could feel it against his skin, pressing lightly against his soul, reminding him of the insignificance of everything else he had seen before this moment.

"What is this?" he murmured, his voice low, as if he feared that speaking too loudly would disturb the fragile balance of what he was seeing.

Old Man First smiled faintly, his eyes reflecting the blue radiance. "What you are witnessing right now," he said in a tone that carried both pride and reverence, "is the birth of a planet."

Max’s eyes widened. "Birth of a planet?" he repeated, his mind struggling to accept what his senses were telling him. "This... this small thing is a planet?"

"Yes," Old Man First said, his gaze never leaving the glowing seed. "Not yet in form, but in essence. What you see is the embryonic state of a celestial body—the moment before existence takes shape. This seed holds within it everything that will one day become a world. Oceans, mountains, skies, and living beings—all waiting to be born once the laws that govern it fall into balance."

Max was speechless. He had witnessed countless incredible phenomena in his life—flames that could devour space, swords that could sever the heavens, and powers that could destroy entire regions—but this was something else entirely. This was creation itself.

"But what are we doing here?" Max asked, his tone calm but filled with curiosity as he looked at the glowing sphere before them. It resembled a star, yet it pulsed softly like a beating heart, radiating a golden light that painted the void in hues of dawn. "I understand that witnessing the creation of a planet is something extraordinary, something few in existence ever get to see, but how does this help me comprehend the concept of time?"

Old Man First’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that carried both wisdom and a trace of amusement. He did not answer immediately. Instead, he gazed at the glowing sphere, his eyes reflecting the starlight as if peering into a thousand forgotten ages.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm, carrying the depth of someone who had seen countless worlds rise and fall.𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"This seed," he said, "is in its embryonic state. It will take millennia—perhaps even longer—to mature and grow into a true planet. What we are witnessing here is the beginning of time itself for a world yet unborn." His gaze turned to Max, and his smile deepened slightly. "But we are not here for the spectacle."

He lifted his hand, and with a faint motion, the space around them shimmered. Symbols older than language itself began to appear in the void—glowing golden runes that floated weightlessly in circles around the planet seed. Each rune carried a strange vibration, one that seemed to exist beyond the confines of time or meaning.

"I discovered a technique," Old Man First said, his tone slow and deliberate, "a long time ago in one of the countless ruins scattered across the Divine Realm. It was hidden deep within a structure that even the gods themselves might have forgotten. The technique was unlike anything else I had ever encountered. Its structure was not divine nor mortal—it felt as though it came from something beyond the reach of even the heavens."

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly as he listened, his curiosity piqued. He had seen techniques that defied reason before, but the way the old man spoke made it sound almost mythical.

"The manuscript was written in an ancient language," Old Man First continued. "One that even the oldest races had no record of. It took me tens of thousands of years to decipher its script, and when I finally understood its meaning, I realized that it was not a technique for strength or destruction, nor was it meant to cultivate power. It was something far more profound."

He turned to Max, his expression now solemn. "It was a technique that allowed a being to divide their existence—to create a perfect clone of themselves."

Max’s eyes widened. "A cloning technique?"

"Yes," Old Man First said with a nod. "But not like any you might have heard of. This technique creates a true replica—a clone that is not merely a copy of one’s appearance or a fragment of soul energy. It is a complete reflection of one’s existence, down to the smallest thread of fate. The clone would not be weaker or lesser. It would be you in every sense. Your strength, your soul, even your consciousness would be mirrored perfectly."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a long moment, Max was silent. He could imagine the potential of such a technique. A perfect copy of oneself meant limitless possibilities. But as quickly as the thought crossed his mind, the old man’s tone shifted, carrying a quiet, almost sorrowful gravity.

"However," Old Man First said, "the conditions to use this technique are impossible. The manuscript made that much very clear. It requires a being to separate their existence across two dimensions of reality while maintaining perfect synchronicity between them. In essence, one must split not only the body and soul but the flow of time and space around them."

Max frowned slightly. "Split time and space?"

"Yes," the old man said. "To create the clone, you must anchor one existence in the flow of time and the other in the stillness of space. One will exist in constant motion, living in the present and experiencing causality as it unfolds, while the other will remain suspended, existing beyond time’s influence but still connected to it. The two halves would share one consciousness, but they would live in entirely different states of being."

He paused, his gaze distant as though recalling his own futile attempts. "If even the slightest imbalance occurs between the two, the result is annihilation. Both the original and the clone would collapse, erased completely from existence. Not even the fragments of one’s soul would remain. The manuscript described that as the ’Return to Zero’—a fate worse than death. No reincarnation, no trace, nothing."

Max’s breath slowed. "So even you couldn’t use it?"