Creation didn't begin with sound.
It began with alignment.
Aarav stood in the memory-field, eyes open but unfocused, breath steady.
He raised his hand—not to conjure, but to invite.
And slowly, around him, space began to respond.
Not as walls.
Not as pillars.
As geometry of presence.
Each structure formed not from stone or code, but from principles only a body in deep awareness could know:
Stillness without stagnation
Expansion without escape
Containment without control
A floor unfolded beneath him—hexagonal layers pulsing with slow breath-rhythm.
Ceilingless.
Wall-less.
A chamber of choice.
Wherever one stood in it, their posture adjusted.
Wherever one breathed in it, their breath deepened.
This was not a temple.
This was an awakening field.
A mirror that required no reflection.
A place where truth couldn't be hidden.
Aarav looked at what he'd built.
Then let it go.
Let it imprint itself into the structure of reality.
And in cities across the world, people felt something in the air:
Homes that softened the spine.
Streets where the wind aligned with breath.
Ruins that suddenly stilled the mind.
The world itself had begun to practice.