The light is still exploding.

It wasn't a blinding white, nor was it the afterimage of an explosion; rather, it was a brightness that seeped from the very bones, as if every cell in his body was setting off fireworks. Chen Hao's hand was still gripping Nana's, the indentation on his palm burning as if it had just been pulled from a furnace, but he dared not let go.

"Am I still alive?" he asked, his voice sounding less like his own and more like a broadcast coming from a distant place.

Nana didn't answer, but her fingers twitched, gently squeezing his hand in return. It was a small gesture, but in a moment like this, it was more effective than saying "I'm fine" a thousand times.

He blinked and realized that the world before him was no longer a snowfield. Or rather, it could no longer be called a "world." Above him was a flowing stream of data, like the Milky Way torn into code, running in all directions; beneath his feet was nothing, yet it felt as if he were standing on some invisible platform, and with each breath, the air vibrated, as if the entire space was rising and falling with his lung capacity.

"Did we... ascend to heaven?" He chuckled dryly. "Or did the system just delete our accounts and start over?"

Nana finally spoke, her voice so calm it was almost unbelievable for a robot: "What you just pressed wasn't the reset button, it was the activation button for the Genesis Protocol. We are now in the initial state of the universe's creation, with our consciousness and the laws of physics nearly 100% synchronized."

"So," Chen Hao swallowed, "if I sneeze now, will a star explode?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a bright light flashed in the distance, and a fireball appeared out of thin air, then stretched into a ribbon and began to spin.

Both of them fell silent.

“…I’m serious.” Chen Hao looked down at his hands. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Nana quickly brought up the data panel in her field of vision and glanced at his vital signs. "Heart rate increased by 12%, adrenaline increased—when you're nervous, the universe is nervous too." She paused, "I suggest deep breathing."

"Take a deep breath? I could blow away a galaxy with just one breath!" Chen Hao raised his hand to scratch his head, but then stopped abruptly. "I don't even dare to move. It's like realizing I forgot to write my name during an exam. I just want to disappear on the spot."

"Then you'd better not think too much right now." Nana took a step closer, gently pressing her mechanical ear against his chest. "Just listen to your heartbeat."

"Are you going to give me a physical exam?" he grinned. "Or are robots starting to use lie detectors now?"

“It’s not a lie detector,” she said. “It’s modeling.”

As she finished speaking, Chen Hao felt a slight vibration in his chest, as if a miniature printer was working on his ribs. Then, the newly erupted band of fire began to slowly contract, its color changing from incandescent white to pale gold, eventually coiling into a stable spiral arm, like a dragon that had calmed down.

"You...you just used my heartbeat as a command?" he stared.

“A ‘heart rate-energy output’ mapping model has been established.” She withdrew her ear, her eyes calm. “At the end of the twenty-eighth heartbeat, the spacetime rift closed. From then on, you can control the output intensity.”

"So from now on, whenever I get emotional, the universe will have to act out an idol drama with me?" Chen Hao sighed. "Wouldn't that make me a walking disaster movie?"

"As long as you don't suddenly remember that you didn't hand in your exam paper." She actually accepted the answer.

He paused for a moment, then laughed out loud: "You still remember that? I thought you only knew how to save scientific data."

“I remember you saying, ‘I’m going to fail anyway, so I might as well sleep a little longer,’” she looked at him. “Then you overslept and got dragged out by the teacher to stand as punishment.”

“That’s called strategic abandonment.” He shrugged. “Looking back now, if I had known I could control the speed of light, I probably wouldn’t have pretended to be dead.”

"You want to change it?" she asked.

“Change it!” His eyes lit up. “Slow down the speed of light, that way we’ll have more time to escape.”

Nana didn't speak, but simply raised her hand and made a gesture in the air. A formula appeared, distorted for a few seconds, and then froze: **c = 3 x 10⁻⁴ km/s ± Emotional fluctuation coefficient**.

"You really changed?" he asked in surprise.

“The test mode allows for temporary parameter adjustments,” she said, “but it’s advisable not to go too far, otherwise the new universe might not last three minutes.”

"Three minutes is enough for me to run around the Earth ten times." He chuckled, then suddenly thought of something, "By the way, since it's about creation, could we add a setting—that winters shouldn't be so cold?"

“It’s been entered.” She nodded. “It’s also linked to the ‘fall cushioning mechanism,’ so the snow will soften automatically.”

“And another thing!” he slapped his thigh, “Make it possible for fat people to run fast, as long as they’re willing to try.”

"The condition is met: kinetic energy conversion efficiency is positively correlated with effort value," she added. "It has been added to the basic rule set."

They looked at each other, neither speaking, but the atmosphere suddenly became quiet. It wasn't awkward, but rather that kind of quiet where you know the other understands you, and you understand the other.

“Actually…” Chen Hao said in a low voice, “I’ve always felt that someone like me is destined to be just a background character. I’m at the bottom of my class in exams, I fail physical education, and even my time-travel experience is the worst.”

“But you are the creator now,” Nana looked at him, “and you pressed the start button yourself.”

"But what if I mess it up again?" He smiled wryly. "Didn't every previous cycle collapse because I messed things up?"

“Then let’s do it together this time,” she said. “You take care of the ideas, and I’ll take care of the calculations.”

He stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed: "Shall we have a competition?"

"What are we comparing?"

"Body temperature." He grinned. "Whoever has the higher temperature gets to decide."

Nana paused for two seconds, as if searching for the rationale behind the suggestion. "It doesn't make sense. I have a mechanical body; my core temperature can be manually adjusted."

"Then let's adjust it." He shrugged. "Want to take a gamble?"

She stared at him, her electronic eyes flashing slightly. Then, she activated the heating program.

But Chen Hao noticed—she was delayed by 0.3 seconds.

It wasn't a malfunction; it was intentional.

His body temperature spiked instantly, not from the heat, but from realizing she was being considerate of him. This sudden emotional fluctuation triggered a new round of parameter writing.

[Gravity constant g = 9.8 m/s² x Affection enhancement coefficient]

[Light speed limit fluctuation: ±15% (only effective when two people are together)]

[Background music: School song (off-key version), playing on repeat]

"Are you crazy?" Nana looked at the terms floating in the air.

“That’s what I call fair.” He smiled like a child who had stolen candy. “You let me win, so I’ll make the universe even more outrageous.”

"System notification: The rules are too unstable and may cause the early collapse of the civilization."

"So what if it collapses?" he shrugged. "We can always rebuild it again."

Nana looked at him and suddenly smiled slightly—it was the first time she hadn't ended the conversation with "Analysis complete" or "Data confirmed," but instead said softly, "Okay."

At that very moment, the surrounding void began to tremble.

It wasn't a vibration; it was more like some kind of structure taking shape. Chen Hao felt his breathing becoming increasingly synchronized with Nana's. With each inhale, stardust gathered around him; with each exhale, a new orbit began to take shape.

“Something’s not right.” He frowned. “I feel… I’m getting smaller.”

“It’s not that it’s getting smaller,” Nana looked up. “It’s that the world is getting bigger.”

The void beneath their feet began to crystallize, with layers of transparent structures extending outwards, like ice flowers growing, or like diamonds building themselves from nothing. The formulas floating in the distance slowly sank, embedding themselves within the crystals, becoming vein-like patterns.

“The desolate star… is gone,” Chen Hao murmured.

“It has been quantized,” Nana said. “All matter and energy have been compressed and recombined to form a self-consistent closed universe.”

So we're now... inside a diamond?

"To be precise, it was this diamond we created that became the container for the new world."

Chen Hao looked down at their clasped hands and noticed that their skin was beginning to become translucent, revealing flowing threads of light beneath. "Are we... going to turn into data too?"

“It’s not the data,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter. “It’s the law itself.”

He didn't say anything more, but simply leaned his head closer, his forehead gently touching hers.

“I used to think of myself as a useless person,” he said softly. “Now I realize that I can also be a key.”

“You are not the key,” she said, closing her eyes. “You are the starting point.”

In an instant, the last energy wave spread out.

The entire newborn universe stood still for a moment, and then slowly began to rotate.

Starlight flowed outwards from where they embraced, rhythmic like breathing. Formulas coursed within the crystal walls, recording the frequency of each heartbeat. Outside lay endless nothingness, yet inside was a warmth like an afternoon that would never end.

Chen Hao opened his eyes and saw that she was also looking at him.

"Next time creation happens," he said with a smile, "could we cancel the exam?"

She was about to speak—

His fingertips suddenly twitched.