There I was, deep in the process of forging a new guardian, when the system's alert snapped me out of my focus, "PING!"

"Stone Engraving Tutorial Commencing. Please provide rules that guardians must abide by. Must only have between 3 to 5 rules. Once made, they will be scattered throughout Elysia. These rules will be implanted in the guardians' being."

I paused, a crease forming between my brows as I mulled over the grave responsibility of setting rules that would govern the guardians' conduct. What if I were to enter sleep mode, unable to intervene? The thought sent a cold shiver through me.

With careful consideration, I crafted four rules:

1. *Clack* Guardians shall not engage in combat with one another.

2. *Clack* Under no circumstances shall guardians endeavor to destroy Elysia.

3. *Clack* Any urgent alterations must first receive Kaelic's approval.

4. *Clack* Guardians are bound to uphold the equilibrium of the realm that is Elysia.

"Ow, ow, ow," I winced, the sharp pain of my blood being drawn to inscribe these edicts a stark reminder of their permanence.

"Please provide a name for these rules."

Without hesitation, "The Stone of Alexander," I declared, a name befitting the legacy I was beginning to forge here.

*Thud* The stone slabs, now etched with my will, vanished into the system's keeping. My voice, like an ethereal whisper, reached out to Slyvana, Ignilite, and Obsidian Voidkeeper, instilling them with the knowledge of these new laws.

"We shall abide by these rules, Master Karlic," Slyvana intoned with solemn grace. Ignilite and Obsidian Voidkeeper sent their silent assent through the bond we shared.

"Tutorial completed. Player has 80% of the full God Tutorial completed."

I mused aloud, "Just 20% to go. Do all gods face such trials in their creations?" The weight of the process was becoming clearer with each step.

But before I could press on, *Buzz, buzz* —the chat room notifications stole my attention. Giant Killer and Planet Jupiter were still squabbling like children. Then, a friend request from Rainstorm caught me by surprise. *Click*

[Direct Message]

Rainstorm: Hi, I was just wondering if you're doing okay?

I hesitated, typing out my response with a touch of curiosity and a dash of caution.

[Direct Message]

The Forgotten One: Um, yes, I'm doing well. But can I ask you something?

Rainstorm: Yesss, you can ask me anything. What's on your mind?

The Forgotten One: Well, I don't understand... why are you being so nice to me?

Rainstorm's words flowed through the chat, warm and genuine, explaining her desire to befriend and protect me from the dangers of this new realm. I found myself grateful for her kindness and the unexpected connection.

The Forgotten One: I appreciate that, but I can protect myself. That doesn't mean we can't be friends, though :). I do really appreciate you looking out for me.

The Forgotten One: Also, this Newbie Hunter, what is his chat room name?

Rainstorm's warning about the Newbie Hunter hung in the air like a silent threat. She urged caution and informed me that I was still under the Administration's protection, a shield against whatever or whoever this hunter might be.

The Forgotten One: I'm almost finished, but there's still a lot to do. And what do you mean by "under Administration protection"?

Rainstorm: You'll know soon enough once you complete the tutorial. I have to run, though; there are some things I need to attend to. It was nice talking to you :). If you have any other questions, just ask, okay?

The Forgotten One: Okay, I will. Thanks a lot for trying to help, and I will reach out when I have enough time.

As Rainstorm signed off, I was left with a sense of camaraderie that I hadn't realized I was missing. The void of creation felt a little less vast, a little less daunting.

But as I turned my attention back to my divine work, a new challenge presented itself. Ideas for the next guardian seemed to elude me, and the endless expanse of space felt more oppressive than ever.

"System," I called out, "is there a way for me to create a space for myself between this reality and the universe I've created?"

"Yes," the system answered, "it is the next step in your tutorial. The player can create their space now, but keep in mind this space will have no color due to the player's power."

I sighed, the prospect of a colorless domain was less than appealing, but it beat floating aimlessly. "As long as I'm not floating around everywhere, that's fine. Can I at least have a couch or something to sit and lay on?"

"One moment... Creating Player Room," the system responded.

With a *Woosh* and a *Flicker*, the space around me transformed. A room emerged out of the void, stark and white, furnished with pieces that were as colorless as the walls themselves.

"How am I supposed to appreciate this if I can't even see it?" I asked, half-joking.

"With mastery over your powers, color will return to your space," the system assured me.

Settling into my new room, I found a strange comfort in the monochrome surroundings. It was a place of my own, a sanctuary between the worlds I was tasked with overseeing. Here, I could gather my thoughts and plan the future of Elysia.

As I reclined on my white couch, my mind danced with possibilities for the next guardian. The connection with Rainstorm and the anticipation of completing the tutorial fueled my determination.

I would build a pantheon worthy of Elysia, guardians who would stand testament to my journey from solitude to sovereignty. And with each step, I would grow stronger, more adept, until the color returned not just to my furniture, but to my new existence as a god.