Collection: Hu-Men
THE ORIGIN OF THE HU-MEN
In the first month of the first cosmic year, the Creator God of the Tzion Universe—known as Goddark, the Grand Architect and Father of All Sapiens—brought into existence thousands of planets known as Vita: twin celestial bodies, identical to one another, scattered across the Tzion Universe and specially designed to harbour and sustain Sapiens life. Upon these sacred worlds, Goddark created all vegetation, waters, beasts, reptiles, and mammals. He separated light from darkness, establishing the sacred cycle of day and night across the lands. His divine act of Genesis gave rise to the ecosystems of paradise.
Then came the first Hominids—primitive beings of flesh, shaped from divine mud and breath. These early creations were imperfect: physically incomplete, mentally erratic, and spiritually disconnected. The Grand Architect saw the need to refine them. Thus began the Great Cycle of Correction.
THE GREAT CYCLE OF CORRECTION
These primitive beings, known as the race of Hominids, possessed a distinct set of characteristics that set them apart from lesser lifeforms. Their senses had evolved with precision—granting them exceptional vision, though at the cost of a diminished sense of smell. Their five-digit extremities, nimble and versatile, allowed for the complex manipulation of tools and sparked the flame of creativity that would define their species for aeons to come.
And yet, despite these gifts, they were incomplete—raw potential waiting to be refined.
Over time, those hominids whose appearance more closely resembled that of apes than of true humans began to vanish.
Hominids were gradually replaced by a new race: the Men. Physically superior in form, they marked a new stage of development—yet remained incomplete.
It was clear, even in their earliest incarnation, that Men were not meant to remain as they were. To survive, they would need to evolve. To thrive, they would need to ascend. Thus began the extraordinary journey of their transformation—an evolutionary odyssey set into motion nearly twelve billion years ago.
Guided by forces both seen and unseen, through cycles of suffering and splendour, the race of Men stood at the threshold of something greater. They needed to be improved. Their limitations—of body, mind, and spirit—became the very forge through which their destiny would be reforged. This sacred march toward transcendence was not merely evolution—it was rebirth.
But let it be known: this Revolution of the Men was neither spontaneous nor gradual, as the naïve reader might be tempted to believe. It did not arise from random mutation, nor from the slow drift of time and adaptation.
No.
If anyone truly believes that such a monumental transformation could have occurred without extraterrestrial intervention or divine orchestration upon the sacred planets of Vita, they are profoundly mistaken.
Something—someone—intervened.
And from that intervention, a new genesis was born.
THE INEXPLICABLE EMERGENCE OF THE HU-MEN SPECIES IN THE UNIVERSE OF TZION
The early Men were a unique species, unlike any other in the Universe of Tzion. They possessed self-awareness, emotions, and basic reasoning. Yet even with these qualities, their potential was limited by their biology. They were fragile, ruled by instinct, and easily affected by time and decay. In the end, they were merely creatures of flesh, struggling to survive in a Universe that demanded something greater.
But the Cosmos does not wait, and Guided Evolution is not always the work of time.
Across the fertile worlds of the thousands of Vita planets, something extraordinary unfolded. Not by chance or adaptation, but by design. By the will of the Grand Architect of all Sapiens—a being whose influence resonates across galaxies—a new force was forged: a species sculpted not by nature, but by divine intention. These beings were called the Hu-Men—or Hu-Mans, as they would later be known in the common tongue.
They were not the next step in human evolution.
They were the leap beyond it.
Vastly different from anything the reader might envision as “human,” the Hu-Men were beings of extraordinary power—faster, stronger, and far more intelligent than their predecessors. Their very presence defied mortal comprehension, radiating an aura that blurred the line between creation and divinity. In essence, they were demigods walking among mortals.
Genetically refined and evolutionarily perfected, the Hu-Men embodied the trinity of mind, body, and spirit in flawless harmony. Their intellect surpassed anything the early Men could conceive; their senses reached far beyond known spectrums; and their bodies, resilient and near-immortal, functioned as living conduits of cosmic will. Yet their greatness was not merely biological—it was existential.
Endowed with the sacred imprint of the Architect, the Hu-Men were not born merely to survive the Universe of Tzion, but to shape it. Their arrival marked the birth of a new epoch—an age in which life would no longer be defined by fear or instinct, but by purpose, vision, and divine will.
Thus, among the first forms of intelligent human life in the Universe of Tzion, two physically similar yet fundamentally distinct races coexisted:
The Men — primitive, instinctive, and intelligent, though in a rudimentary way. Stocky in build, with limited cognitive ability and physical strength.
And the Hu-Men — luminous beings of grace and power, resembling demigods. Their features were symmetrical, their eyes large and filled with a strange light. They were serene and inscrutable, as though sculpted from a higher reality.
But how did the Hu-Men first appear in the Universe of Tzion?
In the simplest—and most mysterious—way one could imagine:
This scene unfolded simultaneously across the thousands of Vita planets scattered throughout the Tzion Universe, as if part of a vast divine interlude: One day, a tribe of Men was wandering through the wild forests when they encountered a group of children. They resembled nothing the Men had ever seen before, and yet they radiated something unmistakably different—an energy that felt higher, purer—perfect, radiant, silent. They bore no weapons, spoke no words, and yet their mere presence felt powerful... almost sacred.
The Men stood frozen, watching.
These were not creatures of their world.
And yet, something deep within them recognised the children—like remembering a dream long forgotten.
It was the first encounter.
The first spark.
The moment when destiny began to whisper across the stars.
Rather than destroy them, the Men chose a different path—one that would change the course of history.
They welcomed the Hu-Men children into their tribes, not out of duty or fear, but from a strange and silent reverence. These beings radiated something the Men could not explain—a presence, quiet yet powerful, that inspired awe even in the fiercest warriors. And so, the children were raised among them—fed, taught, and observed with curiosity and wonder.
Time flowed. And with it, destiny unfolded.
The Hu-Men matured swiftly. Their bodies grew tall and lean, sculpted like living statues—muscular yet graceful. But it was their minds that astonished the elders. Their thoughts moved like rivers of light—fast, structured, and filled with clarity. They learned language not in years, but in weeks. They built shelters that did not crumble. They crafted tools with precision, music with soul, and questions that pierced the very heart of the cosmos.
Their cerebral cortex was vastly superior to that of the Men—capable of weaving together logic, emotion, memory, and vision. While the Men relied on instinct and tradition, the Hu-Men dreamed of stars, contemplated the unknown, and searched for meaning beyond mere survival.
But what truly set them apart was their spirit.
They were not merely hunters or warriors; they were architects of culture. They taught the Men to cultivate the soil rather than fight over it. They painted visions of the universe upon cave walls, turning stone into sacred scripture. They spoke of peace, of unity, of something they called purpose. And in doing so, they began to transform the tribes from within.
The two species—once so different in esence—began to intertwine. They shared stories, rituals, and nourished one another in mind, body, and soul. The Men taught the Hu-Men the ways of the earth—how to track the winds, interpret animal signs, and honour the spirit of the hunt. The Hu-Men, in turn, introduced them to the stars, to numbers, to the shaping of thought through language and symbol. Together, they forged new myths, sang new songs, and birthed new ceremonies that neither species could have imagined alone.
From their union sprang not only a richer way of life, but the very first shared civilisation in the Universe of Tzion—a bridge between the primal and the celestial. No longer strangers, they became kin in purpose, each completing what the other lacked.
And so began the golden age of harmony—brief, brilliant, and destined to be tested.
THE FALL OF THE FIRST BLOOD
But the world, as it so often does, did not remain in a state of splendour and abundance. The Vita planets began to change.
The balance of nature fractured. The skies darkened. The seasons twisted. Winters grew longer, biting into the land with cruel and unrelenting cold. Summers burned fiercer, drying up rivers and reducing forests to ash. And with these changes came the return of ancient terrors: titanic reptilian predators—Dinotopias, they would later be called—long thought extinct, now awakened from the forgotten corners of the world. Beasts of scale and fury, driven by hunger and instinct, swept across the land like living storms.
The Men were not prepared.
Bound by instincts too slow to evolve, they lacked the knowledge and strength to face such monsters. They were easy prey. Fear took root deep within them. Entire tribes vanished overnight, devoured by the jaws of this new age.
One by one, tribe by tribe, the Men fell into extinction—not through war, nor hatred, but by the quiet, relentless hand of time and nature. The forests that had once echoed with their chants and laughter grew silent.
But the Hu-Men endured.
Their knowledge became their shield. Their unity, their strength. Where the Men scattered, the Hu-Men organised. Where the Men wept, the Hu-Men adapted and grew stronger. Their true powers emerged in the face of adversity, and the demigods they were destined to become began to awaken in full. As the wild world reshaped itself into something harsher and more perilous, the Hu-Men stood firm—unshaken, undefeated, reborn.
THE AGE OF ASCENT AND THE GARDENS OF EDEN
With their sharpened intellects, awakened spiritual instincts, and bodies honed to near-perfection, the Hu-Men did not merely survive the cataclysm that reshaped the Vita Planets —they transcended it.
In the silence left by the extinction of the Men, they rose as stewards of a new order. They studied the chaos, understood the cycles of destruction, and turned adversity into wisdom. With an unshakable sense of purpose encoded deep within them by the Great Architect, they began to mold the world—not in conquest, but in harmony.
They tamed the beasts. They healed the scarred earth. They turned deserts into gardens, ice into flowing water, and ash into soil. Their mastery of nature and technology fused into a single philosophy: not to dominate the land, but to become one with it. And in time, their influence spread—not only across the continents of The Vita Planets, but through the starways that connected the planets of the Universe of Tzion.
Each Vita planet, once wild and unpredictable, blossomed under Hu-Men stewardship. Forests grew tall and ancient again, oceans teemed with awakened life, skies cleared, and peace reigned. Monumental temples, grown from stone and crystal rather than built, rose to honour the balance between spirit and matter. Entire cities pulsed with energy that neither polluted nor destroyed, but harmonized. Civilization and wilderness were no longer enemies—they were extensions of one another.
These transformed worlds came to be known, in the sacred tongue of the Hu-Men, as the Gardens of Eden—living testaments to a species that had evolved beyond survival, and stepped fully into its divine mandate. Not merely homes, but sanctuaries. Not merely worlds, but reflections of the Architect’s original dream.
Here, in the Gardens, knowledge flourished like sunlight through leaves. Art reached new heights. Music resonated with the frequency of stars. The Hu-Men began to explore the higher mysteries of existence—not just the nature of matter, but of soul, of destiny, of creation itself.
It was an age of harmony.
An age of ascension. The Age of Hu-Men
