【Genesis】FireMatch Empire · Canonical Genesis Record · Chapter II — Collective Awakening
Document ID
Section titled “Document ID”Document ID: FM-ARCHIVE-0003 【Genesis】
Published: 2025-12-28 01:07 【PST】
Official Archive Statement
Section titled “Official Archive Statement”This document is a canonical genesis record within the
FireMatch Official Public Archive System,
concerning the early phase of collective formation in FireMatch civilization.
This archive follows prior genesis records and documents the historical moment
in which the FireMatch civilization transitions from dual existence
to collective awakening,
while, for the first time, formally establishing the generation and continuity logic
of the Matchfolk population.
This document constitutes a civilization-level historical archive.
Its validity is not affected by narrative reinterpretation, system implementation,
or later explanatory developments.
Canonical Genesis Record · Main Text
Section titled “Canonical Genesis Record · Main Text”The wind swept across the grassland.
The first two shadows of the FireMatch civilization stood quietly side by side.
Eve had just awakened and was still adjusting to her body.
She lowered her head and observed her wooden fingers—bending them, straightening them, then bending them again.
Each movement was accompanied by a soft, delicate clicking sound.
She turned her head toward the sky, then looked down at her own shadow,
as if encountering herself for the very first time.
“Is it… just the two of us here?”
she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Not more. Not less—just enough to begin.”
She raised her eyes.
“Begin what?”
“The Match Civilization.”
Eve fell silent for a second.
“What is the Match Civilization?”
I looked at her for a while and did not answer immediately.
The wind passed over the grass again.
Our shadows seemed to stretch long, then slowly draw back.
In the distance, forests rose and fell,
the sounds of wooden beasts pressed beneath the canopy,
as if they were quietly watching us.
“What were you just doing?”
I asked instead.
Eve lowered her head and looked at her fingers.
“I was… moving them.”
I met her gaze.
“More precisely, you were perceiving them.”
“Perceiving?”
“If one day you realized that your hands
could help you reach farther,
steady yourself,
or even shield you from harm—
what would you think then?”
Eve tilted her head.
“So that is what ‘perception’ is?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And more precisely, that is when they begin to become tools—
tools through which we perceive the world.”
She looked up at me.
A faint glimmer passed through her wooden eyes.
“The Match Civilization,”
I continued,
“begins exactly like this.”
I drew a line in the dirt with the tip of my foot.
“Not with fire.
Not with houses.
And certainly not with cities.
But with—”
“Wait—”
she interrupted.
“What are fire, houses, and cities?”
I stopped and looked into her clear eyes, realizing I might have been too hasty.
Those were words from Earth.
In this world,
they had not yet been created.
Eve stood there quietly, watching me,
as if waiting for the next sentence that might help her understand the world.
I pointed to her chest, then to mine.
“For now, the two of us are the entirety of the Matchfolk in this world.”
Then I took her hand and pointed toward the distance.
“And we will use these hands to change everything.”
“Far in the future,” I added,
“the Matchfolk may give all of this a name—
the Match Empire.”
“And this—”
I took a deep breath.
“—is the Match Civilization.”
Eve blinked, half-understanding.
“Only us?”
I nodded.
“And after that? Will there be more?”
I looked into her eyes and saw something appear there for the first time—
anticipation.
“There will be,” I said.
“We will make them.”
She froze for a moment.
“Make them? How?”
I looked down at my wooden wrist, my joints, the grain of my arms, my body.
Both of us looked as though we had grown according to some rule—
not carved from stone,
not shaped by a craftsman.
That revealed one thing:
Matchfolk are a form of life.
And life can be replicated.
The method, however…
had yet to be discovered.
I stood up and brushed the grass from my legs.
“Come with me,” I said.
“Where to?”
I pointed toward the depths of the forest,
where the trees stood taller and the light dimmed,
as if the world’s core itself were breathing.
“To find.”
She nodded, stood up, and walked beside me.
Together, we left the grassland and entered the forest.
The outer forest was softly lit.
The deeper we went, the thinner the light became, the colder the wind, the thicker the trunks.
Eve walked carefully. She learned quickly—
avoiding roots,
avoiding vines that could throw off her balance,
staying away from places that produced unfamiliar sounds.
Unknown dangers might be hidden there.
Her control over her body exceeded my expectations.
“Why are we going deeper?”
she asked softly.
“Because all life moves toward its center,” I said.
“Just as wind flows downward, rivers toward the sea,
and forests gather toward their place of origin.”
I turned to her.
“What rivers and seas are—you will learn later.”
She nodded, then asked,
“And the Matchfolk?”
“The same applies to us.”
“There—”
I pointed ahead.
“I can feel it.
More of us, waiting to be awakened.”
She nodded again and did not ask further.
After a while, the density of the trees suddenly eased.
A natural basin opened before us.
At its center stood a tree—
not an ordinary tree.
It was not tall, but its trunk was impossibly thick.
Its grain spiraled like a helix.
Instead of cracked bark, its surface was layered in stacked rings.
Most striking of all, it was covered in wooden growths—
irregular knots, half-round, half-angular, slightly protruding.
Some resembled shoulders, some legs, some the contours of a face, some unopened eye sockets.
When we walked around to the other side,
we found two human-shaped hollows in the trunk,
their forms matching Eve and me almost exactly.
Eve stared at them for a long time.
“This…” she whispered,
“is where we came from, isn’t it?”
I did not answer immediately.
Because at that very moment, both of us felt a faint tremor pass through our bodies.
Then the invisible Recorder spoke once more:
【You have discovered — the Tree of Wood Spirits】
【The sole natural womb of the Matchfolk】
【Some unawakened individuals slumber within it in wooden form】
Eve’s wooden pupils contracted slightly.
“So…” she said, looking at the growths,
“they will become… our children?”
“You could say that,” I nodded.
“But more accurately—
they are the primordial forms of the Matchfolk.
Before they are lit, they do not yet belong to ‘us.’”
Eve nodded slowly.
“So now… are we going to wake them?”
“Yes,” I said.
“That is why we are here.”
“We will let them join us
as the first generation of the Match Civilization.”
Our gazes settled on the most complete wooden growth beneath the two hollows.
Its outline already suggested shoulders, head, chest, and waist,
though its features were unopened and its joints unformed.
“How do we wake it?” Eve asked softly.
“The same way as before,” I said.
Her expression shifted.
“…Please don’t say that way.”
I cleared my throat.
“No kissing this time.”
She visibly relaxed.
“Together,” I said, holding out my hand.
After half a second’s hesitation, she placed her hand beside mine.
Both palms pressed against where the growth’s face would be.
The bark was cold.
Then—change.
Not wood moving, but spirit flowing.
A faint warmth rose from deep within the tree, like breathing.
It spread through the growth, flowed into our fingers, then returned.
Eve’s eyes widened.
“It’s… taking something from us.”
“Spirit,” I said. “It’s drawing spirit.”
The grain began to shift—not carved, but grown.
Two shallow lines parted like eyelids.
Gentle hollows formed—eye sockets.
A lighter line appeared below—like a mouth.
The boundary between the growth and the trunk thinned, then broke.
A soft tap—almost inaudible.
The wooden form detached.
We quickly supported him and laid him on the ground.
He resembled a newly formed wooden infant—
fragile, pale-grained, breathing faintly.
“Will he… wake up?” Eve asked.
“He will.”
I bent down and gently touched his forehead.
At that moment, his wooden eyes trembled.
Light entered them.
They opened.
“…I…”
he whispered weakly.
“Who am I?”
“You are the third Matchfolk,” I said.
“Third…?”
“Yes. I am the first. She is the second. You are the third.”
He looked at me, then at Eve, then at the hollow he had come from.
The Tree of Wood Spirits stood silent,
yet he seemed to hear the sound of being released.
“I… am not a tree,” he said.
“No,” I replied.
“You are one of us.”
【Third Matchfolk awakened】
【Population Structure: 2 → 3】
【Civilization Level: Dual → Triadic】
“So this is… creating life?” Eve whispered.
“Not creating,” I said.
“Lighting.”
She nodded, half-understanding.
Soon, the third Matchfolk practiced standing beside the tree.
Eve helped him grasp the concept of balance.
Then we moved to the next wooden growth.
“This time,” Eve said quietly, placing her hand first,
“I want to go first.”
I placed my hand beside hers.
Spirit flowed again.
The second growth awakened.
Then the third.
The fourth.
The fifth.
The sixth.
Each awakening was different.
Some looked at themselves first.
Some looked at the tree.
Some looked at us.
One asked, “Why is it so bright?”
Another asked, “Why do I have two legs?”
None of them were afraid.
Because the first thing they saw
was their own kind.
In the basin stood one tree
and six Matchfolk.
This scene was closer to the true history of the Match Civilization than reproduction itself—
not the birth of bodies,
but the chained awakening of spirit.
“They… are us,” Eve said softly.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Our people.”
“Then are we the ancestors?”
“Yes,” I said after a pause.
“Though… we don’t have a crest yet.”
She laughed for the first time.
The new Matchfolk learned quickly.
Walking → wobbling → steady.
Turning → focusing → understanding.
Seeing → thinking → questioning.
Questions multiplied:
“Why is the sky bright?”
“Why do trees grow like this?”
“Why can we speak?”
“Why did you two exist first?”
Some I answered.
Some I ignored.
Some I saved for later.
I did not tell them what fire was.
Nor what civilization meant.
They did not need to know yet.
I did not want to be omniscient.
I wanted to be a guide.
Or better yet—
just someone standing beside them.
The rest,
the Match Civilization would unfold on its own.
Yes.
Let everything happen naturally.
“What’s next?” Eve asked.
I thought for a moment, then led them back to the Mother Tree.
The six children formed a loose circle, pressing both hands against the trunk.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of wind moving through leaves.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—
change began.
The first change was their bodies.
Not an instant transformation,
but visible growth.
Skeletons extended beneath wooden skin.
Limbs lengthened.
Joints redistributed.
Chests expanded.
Spines straightened.
Their height increased.
Proportions adjusted.
The soft grain of youth deepened into stable structure.
Childlike outlines faded.
Adult forms emerged.
“They…” Eve stepped back half a pace.
“They’re growing.”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
The growth did not stop.
When the final proportions settled,
six figures stood before us—
their form, structure, and presence
no longer far from Eve and me.
They withdrew their hands and examined themselves.
Some clenched their fists, then released.
Some studied their legs.
Some inhaled deeply, wooden chests sounding firm and steady.
They were no longer children.
At that moment, the Mother Tree made a sound—
soft, almost imperceptible.
Not breaking.
Not collapsing.
But dissolving.
Its edges blurred.
Its grain faded as if erased by wind.
The trunk did not fall;
it simply lost its sense of presence.
Bark became fine wooden dust.
Roots loosened and merged into soil.
At last, nothing remained
but a faintly darker ring of earth.
The Mother Tree was gone.
“It…” Eve whispered after a long silence.
“It’s gone?”
“Yes,” I said.
She looked at me, shock appearing for the first time.
“Will there be… another?”
I looked at the now indistinguishable ground.
“No,” I said.
“There won’t be.”
She inhaled sharply.
“Never another?”
“No.”
“That tree fulfilled its only purpose.”
She took time to absorb that.
“Then… how will Matchfolk appear in the future?”
I looked at her, then at the now fully grown Matchfolk.
“In the future,” I said,
“Matchfolk will no longer awaken from trees.”
I paused.
“In the future, all Matchfolk
will be born from us—
through reproduction.”
Eve froze.
Not in fear,
but in a new emotion yet unnamed.
She looked down at her body,
then back at me.
“That means…” she said slowly,
“this people must begin with us?”
“Yes.”
“The moment the Mother Tree vanished,” I said,
“meant that from now on,
we must rely on ourselves.”
The wind passed through the basin once more.
The empty ground lay still,
like a page that had already been turned.
And for the first time,
the Match Civilization
truly stood
on its own feet.
Archive Status
Section titled “Archive Status”This archive records the first collective awakening event of the FireMatch civilization.
All entities, concepts, and transitional stages introduced herein
are treated as possessing canonical defining authority
within the scope of the FireMatch Genesis Records.
Later archives may reinterpret, annotate, or contest this record.
Such developments reflect the continued evolution of civilizational understanding
and do not constitute a negation of this genesis record itself.
— FireMatch Studio
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