The Star-Empire of Mankind (Clean Slate)

Closing his eyes, John focused on the deepest part of his mind, a part that was quite often active in his daily life, though hidden behind the static of everyday concerns.

John, of course, had always wanted to be a writer. Every day a thousand concepts, scraps of fiction, and creative ideas floated through his imagination. Several times he had tried to turn these errant musings into a definitive work, but the right medium never presented itself.

Poetry? Too flowery.

Short stories? He had too much to say.

Novelized epics? There was never enough time.

But now the whole of the universe was his canvas, and it awaited nothing more than his raw creative power. Instead of meticulously plotting each detail of his new world, John allowed his thoughts to crystallize themselves and begin to take on life and shapes of their own. That way he could wander his dreamscape and be awed at what his brain had spawned, finding surprise and adventure around every corner.

So with a single spark of an idea, he suddenly knew all of Creation would bloom into being. The feeling of raw power, of the weight of making nearly overwhelmed him until he felt an alien breeze brush his cheek and the singing of unfamiliar grass at his heels.

He had only to open his eyes and the product of his subconscious would be there to greet him.