In the beginning, there was nothing here.
There was no light, and there was no darkness.
There was no beginning, and no end.
Only perfect stillness existed.
But stillness could not be eternal.
At some moment, something came into being within that space of nothingness.
At first, it was so small and feeble that even its existence could not be felt.
Yet it certainly existed.
And from the moment it existed, it began to move.
Soon, its movement gave rise to ripples.
Its quiet vibration gradually transformed into a great turbulence.
And at last, the perfect silence was broken.
Within the space of nothingness, movement occurred for the first time.
The world breathed for the first time.
In truth, the birth of the world did not begin within perfect order.
Rather, it was an impulse too immense to bear.
It was “one.”
A single qi.
A single existence.
A single will.
But the problem was that the potential possessed by that “one” was far too vast.
It could not withstand itself.
From within, it split, distorted, mingled, and collided.
As if emotions had become entangled and fallen into chaos.
That qi, that energy (氣),
wanted to burn like fire,
wanted to flow like water,
wanted to grow like wood,
wanted to become hard like metal,
and wanted to embrace everything like earth.
Five mutually contradictory desires eventually called forth division.
They split apart and exploded, scattering in every direction.
The first to split away was fire (火).
Fire possessed the impulse to prove itself by burning everything hot.
It became a crimson flame and flew to the south of the world.
The second to split away was water (水).
Water flowed and flowed without any fixed frame, changing its own form as it sought its path.
It became a dark blue wave and seeped into the north.
The third to split away was wood (木).
Wood possessed a powerful vitality that sought to survive, extend, and propagate.
It became a green seed and took root from the eastern earth.
The fourth to split away was metal (金).
Metal possessed the willpower to pursue tempering, order, and precision, refining itself.
Its will held a cold light and sank beneath the strata of the west.
And finally, what remained was earth (土).
Fire, water, wood, metal, and earth, which held the heaviest heart that sought to wrap around and embrace them all.
Earth did not move.
It remained in that place and guarded the center.
Though it spoke no words, it held the world in the deepest embrace.
Thus the existence of “one” split into five qi—fire, water, wood, metal, and earth—and came into being in this world.
They pursued directions far too different from one another.
They were five incarnations born from a single origin, unable to touch one another, yet never able to part.
And the moment of that division was the very beginning of the world.
First, the southern region.
The earth split, and flames surged upward.
As the earth split, an enormous heat rose.
Smoke dyed the sky red, and flames covered the land.
Though it burned itself, it knew not how to go out.
It blazed to illuminate itself, spread to drive away darkness, and wished to display itself faster than anyone else.
The qi of fire did not stop.
It spread swiftly, burning everything away.
As if searching for something, as if pursuing something, it drove itself to become greater, hotter.
That place was hot, dangerous, and desolate, yet at the same time, it was the place that first desired a master to govern it.
The stones around it grew red-hot, and the earth quickly split and burned.
At some moment, the flames wavered as they formed a single shape.
As if burning clear in advance the place where something would awaken.
That is the place where the world of fire will begin.
Next, the northern region.
There, water gathered and formed an abyss.
The abyss gradually deepened and stirred with waves.
From the deep sea, a trembling was transmitted.
The cold, dark ocean exhaled a deep breath.
The ripples that rose to the surface were, at first, no more than faint waves.
But soon the waves grew fierce in layer upon layer, spreading along the surface and wetting the edges of the land.
The qi of water was quiet.
It gathered, scattered, and gathered again.
It condensed firmly, spread flexibly, and seeped far away.
It had no direction, but neither did it have any halt.
It held emotion yet did not reveal it, contained memories yet let them flow away.
A cold energy spread, and mist came into being.
The atmosphere gradually cooled, and the boundary between sea and land grew blurred.
The waves gradually created a steady rhythm, and at last, the ripples that had found stability sank into stillness.
There, the leader of the flow will awaken.
And the eastern region.
In the dry earth there, cracks formed, and a small sprout showed its face.
The roots digging beneath the earth moved slowly, yet deeply, and above the ground, stems and leaves gradually rose.
At first, it was a single sprout and a faint tremor, but soon life lifted its head.
And before long, it spread into thickets and trees, beginning to form a forest.
The qi of wood was the power to grow.
Without knowing how to stop itself, endlessly, without hesitation, it stretched its branches toward the pouring light.
It continued to extend, as if being drawn upward toward the sky.
Life did not move in only one direction.
It intertwined and embraced, sprouting all at once in every place.
To grow toward the heavens.
A qi that dreamed more of tomorrow than of today.
The eastern land began to be covered in life.
Even the passing wind carried fragrance and whispered.
There, the Empress of Life is destined to be born.
And then the western region.
Deep beneath the earth, some hard object held a light.
And from it, a low, solid resonance began to spread.
Metal, heavier than stone and harder than earth.
The qi of pure white metal that pierced through unrefined soil.
That qi quietly seeped into a single mass, and that mass contained a weight that could never be lost.
The qi of metal was silent endurance.
Unrefined substances were pushed away, and the remaining metal gathered along fixed lines.
Within the pain of forging itself, it gained form, gained meaning, and established order.
Veins of ore connected with one another and took shape, and gradually, they were interlocking as they established their own rules.
A will that rejected chaos and pursued completion.
What flowed within it was not emotion, but purpose.
There, a being symbolizing steel will rise.
The earth was ordered, and balance began to settle.
Everything seemed to be placed in its appointed position.
And the qi of earth waited until its turn would come.
Finally, the central region.
A place that could not turn its back on any direction.
For that reason, a place that had to be guarded without moving.
The qi of earth made no sound.
It did not move, nor did it shine, but it had never collapsed.
It did not blaze like fire,
flow like water,
grow like wood,
or shine like metal.
Instead, silently, it accepted everything.
Earth did not waver.
It simply “was” there in that place.
The place where all qi flows.
The place where all collisions meet.
The place where all beginnings end again.
And the place where all endings begin again.
The weight of the world ultimately returns here.
There, the silent earth will open its eyes.
Fire, water, wood, metal, and earth.
The five qi took their places in their respective directions.
In the south, fire burned,
in the north, water flowed,
in the east, wood grew,
and in the west, metal was firmly embedded.
And in the center, earth remained.
Thus the balance and harmony of the world seemed to be complete.
Each place was stable, and none tried to surpass the others.
For the first time, the world had form.
Movement and circulation, order and growth, expansion and condensation.
Different powers blended strangely together, and the whole began to operate like a single structure.
Fire created ash and made the earth more fertile,
water moistened the roots of wood and nurtured it,
and wood became fuel for fire, allowing flames to rise higher.
Metal provided channels for formless water,
and earth silently created solid metal beneath the ground.
On the other hand, fire could melt metal,
water cooled fire,
and wood stretched its roots into earth.
Metal could cut wood,
and earth blocked the waterways.
All qi complemented one another, even as they kept one another in check.
Even if one qi weakened, another qi nurtured it.
If the direction of one qi became excessive, another qi covered it.
This was balance.
However, balance was not stillness.
Between that balance, confusion sometimes occurred.
If fire was too strong, water would evaporate.
If water was too strong, even earth could not block it.
If wood was too strong, even metal could no longer cut it.
If metal was too strong, it would instead smother the embers.
If earth was too strong, wood could no longer take root.
If fire melted metal too excessively, metal would become useless.
If water overwhelmed fire too excessively, even water would freeze.
If wood stirred too excessively through the earth, the nutrients within the soil would be exhausted.
If metal cut wood too excessively, wood would become useless.
If earth blocked water too excessively, water would ultimately dry up.
As yet, nothing had clashed.
But there was movement.
It was a very small and subtle sense of discord, yet one that could not be ignored.
As if someone were disrupting a delicate tuning.
As more time passes, the five qi will gradually expand their own powers.
And they will become more distinct, each domain growing wider.
If that happens, will balance truly be maintained?
The world was still peaceful, but the tension dwelling within it could not hide itself.
The world was already trembling little by little.
The collisions of qi, and the chaos of qi, had already been foreseen.
For now, all was quiet.
Flames, waves, life, metal, and earth all seemed to have found their places.
Yet they were all waiting.
For the one who would give them form.
For the one who would govern them.
Each qi could not yet speak, but it was certainly calling out to something.
Fire trembled in search of stronger heat,
and water spread a soundless voice from the depths.
Wood stretched its branches higher toward the sky,
and metal tightened itself, becoming ever more precise.
Earth waited silently, holding its weight like a vow.
And at some moment, ripples began to rise from each qi.
As if they had received an answer, as if someone would soon awaken.
Each qi was forming a shape at its center.
Beings not yet complete, yet presences clearly distinct from all others.
They would be the beings who governed each qi.
Five directions.
Five qi.
Five empires.
And five leaders.
The world had only just begun to breathe.
But a beginning was also another concept: the moment one began walking toward the end.
This world was born.
And what, indeed, will be the end of that world?