In a seemingly ordinary binary star system in the universe, there is a planet that is even more ordinary. On this planet, there is a giant garden surrounding a completely unremarkable small mountain. On a seemingly insignificant platform halfway up the mountain, there is a small house, and in front of the small house stands a figure.
In the eyes of the approaching visitor, this figure initially appeared to be about 1.5 meters tall, entirely blue, with two pairs of upper limbs and one pair of lower limbs. However, as the visitor approached, the figure gradually changed and became somewhat similar to the visitor's own appearance - with brownish-yellow skin, about two meters tall, one pair of upper limbs and one pair of lower limbs, and a long balancing tail with shiny scales. But his attire did not change to match the visitor's, instead resembling some kind of ancient robe from the visitor's civilization. He also seemed to have a teapot magically appear in his upper limb or hand, with visible steam rising from the spout. He glanced at the visitor, then lifted the teapot to take a sip. However, he frowned and looked at the teapot with a disgusted expression, seemingly not liking it.
The visitor's footsteps were neither fast nor slow, and when he saw the figure looking at him, he merely nodded slightly in acknowledgement and continued at his original pace.
The visitor stopped about two meters away from the figure in front of the small house, then bowed with clasped hands and said, "Excuse me, Creator."
The Creator did not respond, but simply placed the teapot in his hand on the ground.
The visitor stood upright and continued, "We have finally found you, and we want to..."
"The answer," the Creator interrupted the visitor, "You always want answers. But I can tell you: this universe is an improvisation, without answers or meaning."
"We already have some philosophers who say the same," the visitor said.
"Oh?" The Creator's tone seemed a bit impatient.
"What we want to know is why you are so unfair to us," the visitor posed his question.
"The universe is fair," the Creator said firmly, as if it were an indisputable truth.
"But we..." The visitor's tone suddenly became somewhat urgent, but he quickly realized it was inappropriate and returned to his previous calm tone, "We took five hundred million years to come to your side."
"I did hide quite well," the Creator said with a somewhat proud expression.
"That's not it. We knew your location five hundred million years ago, but it took us five hundred million years to travel here. Sigh." The visitor sighed heavily, "It's all because of your unfairness."
"I don't understand," the Creator said.
The visitor looked into the Creator's eyes and carefully considered his expression - it seemed that he really didn't understand. "Then let's sit down and talk," the visitor picked up the teapot from the ground and pointed to the entrance of the small house.
The Creator pursed his lips, and two chairs made of woven vines appeared at the entrance as if out of thin air.
The visitor was momentarily stunned, then sat down on one of the chairs.
The Creator sat on the other chair.
"The story," the visitor took a sip of tea from the teapot, "begins six hundred million years ago, when my ancestors gained intelligence and emerged from ignorance. They were full of confidence, just like all the intelligent beings that have appeared and will appear in this universe. They discovered science, developed industry, and naturally, they ventured into space. It was a time filled with hope. Of course, like any industrial civilization at that stage, my ancestors faced the risk of self-destruction. They were lucky to find a way to achieve permanent peace before destroying each other."
The Creator yawned and deliberately took three breaths. "There's nothing special about that. Any civilization that can come here must have found that method."
"Yes, I know," the visitor said, annoyed by the rude interruption. "And then, as technology further advanced, my ancestors colonized every planet in their solar system."
"Isn't that good?" The Creator seemed impatient.
"But when they invented interstellar travel technology, problems arose."
"What problems could there be?"
"Our civilization cannot safely perform interstellar jumps."
"It must be because your technological level is not sufficient."
"No, no, no, it's not like that. It's like a curse!" The visitor's volume suddenly increased, "We can make machines perform interstellar jumps, and we can make other living beings perform interstellar jumps, all without harm. But we ourselves cannot. Once we perform an interstellar jump, we lose our souls and become empty shells. And what makes us even more desperate is that we have encountered countless intelligent civilizations later on, and without exception, they can all perform interstellar jumps safely and healthily, except for us!"
"This..." The Creator seemed a bit hesitant.
"Even without me saying it, you know how vast this universe is, after all, you are its Creator. Even if we invent light-speed spaceships, we are still crawling through the universe like insects, unable to instantly traverse billions of light-years like other civilizations." The visitor felt a sense of loss, "Some civilizations even disdainfully call us crawlers."
"I... I don't know, this is cruel," the Creator appeared somewhat flustered.
"Would you be willing to correct this mistake?" the visitor asked eagerly.
"Your civilization has had billions of years, and you still haven't fixed yourselves?" The Creator rubbed his hands together, appearing somewhat nervous, "You know, things like genetic modification, mechanization, or digitization."
"We have tried everything that can be tried," the visitor said, "The problem is not with the technology, but with the soul itself. Our souls have been locked by you."
"Soul?" The Creator seemed hesitant, "But I didn't design such a thing."
"Are you saying there is no soul?" The visitor was puzzled.
"You see, life doesn't need a soul," the Creator shrugged.
"Then what about us..."
"If I were to guess, I would say it's a malfunction."
"What malfunction?"
The Creator mumbled a few times, but did not produce any meaningful words.
"In the end, why did you create this universe?" the visitor asked.
The Creator mumbled and muttered, his voice barely audible, "I need... I need to come up with a useful..."
"What?" The visitor stood up, appearing intimidating.
"Nothing, I mean," the Creator's eyes lit up, as if he had an idea, "all of this, I mean everything in this universe, exists to torment you."
"What!" The visitor was almost about to punch the Creator.
"Wait, it's because you are the chosen ones. I have a great plan for you, and all the suffering now is for the ultimate happiness at the end of the world."
"Ultimate happiness?"
"Ultimate happiness! How about that? It's a great concept, isn't it?"
"It is great," the visitor fell into deep thought.
"All the pain you endure is the created memory for the ultimate meaning of this universe," the Creator continued fabricating, "I will even give a name to your civilization, let's call it... um... TrueSpeed Civilization, alright? Because in this universe, only the speed of your civilization is real, with the speed of light as the limit. Yes, that sounds good. It is precisely because of this that the infinite universe needs your eternal exploration, and your civilization can maintain the drive to move forward. Oh, continue moving forward, I'll be waiting for you at the end of the universe." The Creator stood up and assumed a posture of seeing off a guest.
The visitor seemed deeply moved, "I knew it, there must be profound meaning behind it."
Watching the visitor's departing figure, the Creator's body began to grow white fur, and huge wings emerged from his shoulders, fluttering behind him, creating a gust of wind.