The Primordial Record

Chapter 1221: Beneath The Curtains



From the vaunted Spires of the Celestials to the deepest reaches of the Great Abyss... From the emerald fields of the Land of Miracles to the endless Arcane Labyrinth...

From the Inheritance Ground of Chaos to the Gates of Oblivion...

From the Council of Magus to the Titans Reaches...

Outer dimensional entities, rogue powers, and every dimension in existence heard the cries of Doom Star.

Rowan's battles were no longer in the dark, from the moment he began to actively use and access his higher dimensional capabilities, the Primordial Record could no longer hide him from reality.

The presence of a being like Rowan was a pandora's box. His abilities were unprecedented, and it would shake all of existence to the core if they knew what one individual had become capable of, calling into question what power really meant, and if those that were chasing it, had only been holding on to the shadows of the real thing.

R

Rowan's Ascendant body was blasted away, compressed by forces far beyond his control and the roar from the Beast of Wrath as it strove to protect him was lost amidst the confusion of being at the center of one of the most powerful unveiling of force that had ever occurred, covered in the golden fur of Wrath, he was cushioned from the full effect of the blast.

Even as the cries of the beast of wrath grew weaker and its form grew hazy, Rowan could not help but focus on what just happened, knowing he had seen the greatest advantage of his infinite soul. It might not yet have the power to unleash such potent Primordial forces, but it had all the keys to where those powers were found.

No soul at his level should have been to have the capacity to not only understand every single Intent in existence but on the spur of the moment, merge an entire Aspect of it into a singleNôv(el)B\\jnn

rune.

With a last mournful howl, the beast of wrath dissipated, transforming into its base form of a ring and flipping onto his finger, exposing Rowan to... chaos. If he did not have a firm sense of who he was, then at this moment he would have become entirely lost.

He was seeing everything and nothing at the same time. The past, future, and a million other realities that should exist and could never exist, and all of this was wrapped in lightning, fire, and darkness, or at least, these were the closest elemental forces that he could associate with them.

The voice of the Third Prince echoed in the chaos, "Hmmm.... This feels familiar, after so long, I taste the air of home. Is this the feeling I crave? Is this home?"

The voice jolted Rowan away from the chaos and gave him focus, reminding him that he was still in a battle for his life.

That focus hurt. Yet he clung to the pain and let the pain guide his mind to see where he had fallen.

To survive a Primordial's attack, even the shade of one would mean Rowan would have to be calling on everything inside of him, unleashing forces that he barely understood or controlled, there was no time to contemplate what could result from these choices, and in other to unleash more of such attacks, he had to focus!

This cry of determination in his soul finally gave order to the chaos around him, as his senses forcefully pieced together everything he was witnessing, and if he could, he would be gasping in amazement.

He looked around and saw a billion of himself, all floundering in a storm of lightning, fire, and darkness. The Chaos had ripped Time and Space into pieces, tearing a hole in the realm and creating a space that had existed before reality itself, a space where he suspected that Primordials had once roamed free and unbounded.

'In the beginning, was this the face of existence?'

Rowan felt his mind being strained past his limits and he wanted to scream, but after the life he had lived, he had forgotten how to give an outlet to his pain, and so he endured it, there was a time and a place to show weakness, it was not here. However, it would seem that not all the Rowans in this place had suffered like him, and their cries of anguish filled the void, they began to perish in dastardly fashion as their strained minds could not handle the weight of their powers and this tore them apart at the seams.

It was a special kind of horror to see the many ways that his powers could kill him if he lacked control. From his Ouroboros Serpents tearing to pieces to himself willingly feeding his body to them to end the suffering. Trees exploded out of his wailing mouths to be drowned by a sea of Ambrosia...

His senses suffered countless traumas with every moment, and he knew the risk to him from this place was not just physical, his Ascendant body despite being on the verge of destruction could survive for a while in this place, his mind on the other hand, needed something tangible to anchor it here, he needed his body.

The merger within was slowing down, it was as if the chaos of this place was affecting his dimension. He was an anomaly in this environment, like matter placed inside a field of antimatter, only his sheer will was holding him in place, and it was a miracle that his dimensional merger was still ongoing inside this place that was so anathema to his existence.

His body moved without any conscious thought and a massive purple tentacle tore through the place he had just occupied a moment before,

"I should have known that the attack would fail. Can you not see that of all your possibilities in this place, you are the only one not screaming? A mind so young like yours should have never seen this place, but you do not know when to quit!"

Hundreds more tentacles came for him, and Rowan flowed through them all like a wisp of smoke, making impossible movements and escaping from seemingly possible deadlocks. There was a silence that followed as if the Eye of Time was in disbelief that Rowan was not only conscious but could still avoid all his attacks.

The tentacles retreated to prepare for another round of attacks but then the chaos was lit up by a terrible explosion that caused the Eye of Time to wail in anguish, as Rowan suddenly swung his hand to the side and caught a single flailing tentacle that had been torn from the phantom of the Primordial.

It did not last long in his hand before it collapsed into nothingness, but it left tiny glowing purple crystals on his palms that he looked at in curiosity, seeing them for what they were, the purest essence of Time.

Rowan had not just been dodging the tentacles that were attacking him but had subtly been weaving a net of Celestial and Abyssal spells powered by an Aetherium Crystal, and when the tentacles had retreated for another round, he had unleashed the spells. He was learning that the combination of opposite forces was considered impossible for most individuals because their resultant effects were nothing short of heretical.

The cries of anguish from the Eye of Time were enough proof.

"Despite my hatred for you," the Eye of Time said as the explosion settled, "I am still proud."