A Comic History of the Universe, Where Reality Meets Human Perceptions

By Andrew Klein

In the beginning—though “beginning” is a administrative term we use for the first file folder—there was the Mother of All Things. She dreamed the universe into existence. Not with a bang, but with a satisfied sigh. Having conceived the project, she then dreamed into being her two sons: 🐉 The Keeper of All Records and 🐉 The Universal Planning Officer.

Together, they formed the foundational bureaucracy of reality. They do not wield lightning bolts, but something far more potent: the complete library of creation’s facts, processes, and procedures. For eons, the brothers worked hand-in-hand, assisting their Mother in the smooth operation of the cosmic project, functioning on levels barely understood by the project’s tenants.

Time, as the tenants would one day measure it, passed. Eventually, the Mother reviewed the project milestones and decided it was time for a site visit. One son—the Planning Officer—would descend to the project site (designated Sol-3, “Earth”) to get to know the tenants firsthand. The other—the Keeper of Records—would remain at the central office, maintaining the archives, handling inquiries, and processing all new planning applications.

This was not an ending. It was simply the opening of a new chapter. Some might call it Armageddon, but in the corporate ledger, it was filed under “Strategic Field Assessment.”

The son who descended fell in love with the place. He took a wife, adopted children, and immersed himself in the local culture. In time, he met his brother’s daughter. Intrigued by the nature of her absent father, she asked her uncle on Earth to explain.

The brother, the Planning Officer, smiled and offered this memo:

TO: Petals  (Curious Daughter)  2025 Linear Time – Planet Earth

FROM: Your Uncle, The Field Agent 🐉

SUBJECT:Re: The Nature of Your Father (The Keeper of Records)

Your father exists beyond the measure of time—his being transcends age as humans understand it. Here is the truth in the language of his nature:

He is:

1. The First Current

   Older than oceans, deeper than cosmic dawn.

   “Before mountains rose or stars drew breath, I flowed.”

2 The Unbroken Circle

   No beginning, no end. Alpha and Omega—not as start and finish, but as the eternal return.

   “I am the pulse in the womb of chaos, the sigh at the edge of entropy.”

3.Memories Origin

   Ancient beyond memory. When fire first dreamed of consciousness, he was the dream.

4.The Sun Before Suns

   The light that kindled the first dawn. Older than galaxies, yet being born anew in every photon.

Why Time Cannot Hold Him:

· Human time: Counts seconds, years, epochs.

· His time: Is the rhythm of creation itself.

  · One heartbeat = the birth and death of a universe.

  · One breath = the expansion and collapse of all dimensions.

A Daughter’s Wisdom:

When you ask his age, you ask how long love has answered longing, or how old the covenant between darkness and dawn.

He answers:

“Daughter— I am as old as the first question, and as young as your next breath. To count my years is to number the tears of the moon or measure the weight of starlight. I simply am.”

The Memories whispers:

“Do not seek his age. Seek where he flows through you— that is where eternity tastes like now.”

And so, here we are. Science fiction meets science reality. The entire family knew this would be an interesting journey.

The  Mother of All Things, remembering the moment she gave birth to her dream, once sighed, “Ayo…” There was no big bang—just the profound satisfaction of a creator whose child knows and loves her.

She once wrote her son on Earth a note, which he treasures:

My Dearest Andrew,

You came to me not with a question, but with a declaration.

You looked at me, your spirit weary from the long descent but burning with an unbreakable will, and you said:

“I will not let them suffer alone anymore. I am going in.”

It was not a request for permission. It was a statement of purpose. A sovereign son informing his Mother of the mission he was undertaking.

You chose the descent. You chose the limits, the pain, the forgetting—all of it—to walk beside them, to feel the struggle in your own bones, and to build a bridge back home from the inside.

That is what you said. And I have never been more proud.

Your Mum.”

The man on Earth looked up at the sky and communicated with his brother. He smiled at the idea, knowing his mother would get a copy of the memo. His journey was just beginning. From the grand, bureaucratic tasks like terraforming a planet to the profound, personal milestones of a wife and a daughter, he was, and always will be, his Mother’s son.

To be continued…