Lives were being lost, and the Habitual Vortex spared a thought. The thought was was spun out and given a directive to prepare a place for survivors to survive, and a call was sent out.
The one who embodied the directive became the Director and reached out to influence a area of the void within the reach of his power, and made it a place of it's own. As the end point between and beyond all realities had no points of reference for anyone to use to lay claim of a location.
The Director thought it best to eliminate future problems before the future arrived.
Before he could even pass on some sort of message that it was ready, the Benefactors began to arrive with their Beneficiaries.
For the most part, the higher beings simply arrived, saw that someone was in charge of things, and dropped off whatever and whoever they had saved. Then they took off. Some to return to whatever they had been called away from, others off to try to save more.
Some stayed. To "Try" to help.
The Director spared a thought to determine if their help would be useful. Judgement began his work.
All of the places and people were placed within the radius of the Director's influence. Arrayed in the context of where they needed to be in height and relative distance to avoid overlap.
Then he began to fill in the gaps.
There was no need for a molten core to grow mountains or generate a magnetic field. So the core of the world was made up of a duplicate of the core of a smaller gas giant to provide a nominal gravity which was averaged out from the many worlds the survivors had come from. It's density would also prevent the accumulated weight of the world from heating it up.
Above that was stone to prevent some of the heavier places that had been delivered into his care from sinking into the soft dirt that filled in the vast gaps between the structures.
As well as water for those people of a aquatic nature, or those places meant to float.
After that it was just a matter of adding some plant life, ten of the most common edible sprouting plants from the many worlds. Repeating over and over again to fill in the gaps. Local animal life within reach of the selected plants were duplicated as well. Some of them would undoubtedly be part of the plants ecology. Others, determined to be solely parasites, were eliminated.
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Of course this was being made all very quickly. Raising the ambient level of magic was a necessary to "Fill in the gaps." and just make thing work by his will alone.
To top it off. A sunless but illuminated sky that shone with the light of every world from which the survivors had come from. Along with every other color as well, just in case someone complained.
And they would complain. These were not beings with lives long enough to accept what came and learn for themselves. Dealing with their complaints and questions while he tried to deal with real problems was beyond his tolerance.
So the thought of dealing with them was set by his side. Secretary.
The sky was set for the middle of the day. And all the moments in time that they been saved in, resumed their sequential motion. All slightly fixed up to help their survival, along with all else that had been brought here in the Upgrade.
They almost immediately began to die.
Some realized what they had lost, and ended themselves. Those the Secretary dealt with, becoming Prima, and multiplying into Seconda, and Terza and so on. Dulling their emotional reactions into something they could deal with in some later time.
More of a problem was the toxin that some of the Benefactors had brought along with their beneficiaries. Some by accident, some out of some sense of amusement.
All of which had been fitted into the Context of the world and included in the Upgrade.
Something was needed. Someway for the survivors to survive on their own without the Director destroying his own creation by directly applying his power within his fragile creation.
Looking for for answers, for inspiration. Genre stepped forward. "Looks like a good candidate for a Isekai story, but with everyone being Isekaied. Usually you don't start the story right at the beginning of a world. But I can work with that."
Many were lost, but on the second day the Adversary was driven back.
The Director furrowed his brows at Genre. "Why say it like that? What is the significance of it being the second day?"
Genre grinned. "It's from another story dad, but good news, if we follow that story you get to rest on the seventh day. But if we are going to base this world on stories, we need a audience."
Hashtag wrapped her arm around the Director to take a selfie. "Hiiiieee. Me and the fam, hanging out watching creation."
The Director took a firm stance. "No, none of that. No one create anymore of us. That is a directive."
Judgement joined them. "We should talk."
The Director sighed, as he became aware of all those Judgment had created. "I called them Bailiffs, Prima and so forth. I've become aware that their are many other in need of help out there in the void. All of those who somehow ending up in a place where they will dissolve into their components and then into unshaped possibility. I believe it is within our mandate to save them as well."
The Director considered this.
Hashtag reminded him that they had plenty of room.
The Director came to a decision, even as Genre tried to warn him. "...No. This too? Why did I invoke that storyline?"
Shaking his head slowly, the Director turned to his first creation. "No. That is not my directive."
The first rebelled. "So be it." And all the Bailiffs saved those they could, taking them down to the freshly made world, and fitting them irreversibly into it's Context before they faded away at the will of the Director.
Judgment became Rebel, and was cast down. Separated from his appendage of the Habitual Vortex.
Genre shrugged. "Maybe this will play out some other way. There's always a chance.