The Primordial Record

Chapter 1704: Works of Despair

The Word of Enoch (The Sound That Ends Realities):

Your voice is not sound. It is the anti-song of the void.

Unstitch: A whisper that peels away layers of reality, revealing the raw, throbbing nothingness beneath.

Graft: You fuse two unrelated dimensions together, creating a new hell or a new heaven.

Silence: You erase a concept from local reality.

Rowan perused these three abilities for a while, understanding that this was basically a tool-kit for a living reality to work with.

The Breath of Enoch that was available in the higher echelons of Reality was famed for being able to affect Reality, but that breath was nothing before the words.

Rowan’s Origin Land was a treasure trove that he could not yet explore because he lacked the proper tools for that sort of thing, but with these words, he would be able to explore the intricate mysteries that made his Land special.

Rowan could begin his experiments with all of Reality and find the path of development for his Origin Land, and the utilization of this power did not end here. No domain was safe from him, not the Primordial Domains, not even the Realm of Death… in time, he should be able to peer through all their secrets.

After the disappointment from the dimensional fabric symptoms, Rowan was eager to pursue this new power gained from the Words of Enoch, but he was surprised when the page of the Primordial Record flipped once more.

Your Origin Bloodline fused with Dimensional Fabrics Skills. With the merger of the Enochian Cradle, shadows of Fabrics Skill were generated from the Symptoms of your existence.

Final Approval is needed for an opposing Shadow Template to be added to your Existence. (Y/N)

The description of what the Primordial Record wrote was complex, but its core essence was simple. In the fusion of his bloodline skills, Breath of Enoch and his dimensional fabrics skills, there were certain factors that made the fusion to become unstable.

It turned out that the Breath of Enoch was too powerful, and the fabric skills of his dimensional flesh inherited from the Celestial Creators were too weak. This ultimately led to a situation where the fusion skill he had gained was deeply influenced by the Word of Enoch, becoming more like curses than blessings.

However, Rowan’s bloodline was far too profound to be easily suppressed, and his Origin Bloodlines had fused with his dimensional fabrics skills even before the merger with the Word of Enoch.

Perhaps if Rowan had only a single Origin Bloodline, this would not have mattered to a corrupting force as powerful as the Word of Enoch, but he had three, and the influence they had over his skills could not be so easily diminished.

With the influence of his bloodlines, the Primordial Record would be able to drag out the skills from the curses imposed by the Enochian Cradle.

In other words, his Original dimensional fabric skills were weak and could only bear the symptoms of this fusion, but paired with his Origin Bloodlines, there was a possibility to gain the skills from this fusion. That is, if Rowan was willing to take the risk.

He hesitated for a brief moment before he pushed ahead with acquiring these skills. Rowan was already the enemy of Enoch, whether he wanted to or not.

Rowan had been placed on a path that he could not just step away from, and for the slightest chance of victory, he would have to push forward.

Rowan spoke; the voice that boomed from his chest was surprisingly powerful, and all of the changes he had been undergoing were causing unknown modifications throughout his body.

“Primordial Record, you are authorised.”

The black book seemed to freeze; it was as if it had entered a separate dimension for a moment, and then it returned. This was the first time Rowan was observing something like that, but the words now being written on the fresh page drew his attention.

Dimensional Fabric (The Skin of the Abyss):

You do not manipulate dimensions. You wear them.

The first skill was familiar and also quite odd. For anyone else who gained this power, this would be a skill that was beyond Supreme, but as a living Reality himself, was he supposed to wear his own skin?

Realization entered his eyes, and Rowan nearly slapped himself. It would seem that the endless trauma might be affecting his cognitive abilities.

He already had this ability, but it was in a weakened form. His latent forcefield that had been with him all his life!

From the beginning, Rowan had always wondered about this force field that surrounded his skin, even when he was a mortal. At first, he believed it was an application of his telekinetic abilities, but this forcefield had continuously evolved over the years until he had a powerful barrier all over his body at all times, filled with laws and the power of higher-dimensional energies.

It was the reason why, even if he stood still and allowed any average immortal to attack him, they would have to control a higher level of dimensional comprehension to pierce through the barrier over his skin.

In the memories of Serathis and Prime, he had seen Fury Kuranes charge at the Ouroboros Serpents but could not approach them. This was the innate forefield at work, but Nemesis could easily breach this forcefield because it had higher law comprehension than Rowan, who was at the seventh dimensional level, hence reducing the power of his forcefield to this level as well.

Now he knew the truth. This forcefield was an innate application of his power as a living reality. Even as a mortal, his legacy would not leave him, and any discerning eyes would see it as the mantle of power.

It was a good thing that the Primordial Record had the capability of hiding his nature, else he would have already been discovered long in the past for being a Reality.

The Skin of the Abyss should help him forge a more resilient forcefield around his body. Rowan believed that he should be able to apply deeper dimensional tactics to his forcefield.

With so many methods to defend himself, if he continued stacking all of these methods together, then it would not be long before he was invincible.

Rowan’s heart settled. There was a chance that this upgrade might have gone the wrong way, but as it was, he had succeeded in obtaining diamonds from coal.

The next ability was slowly written down on the page.

Astrolabe Gaze:

Your eyes project the geometry of dead dimensions, forcing viewers to confront the infinite—and go mad.

Simple and horrifying at the same time. Astrolabe was no longer a method to traverse across dimensions; instead, it had become a window to these dimensions.

Yet it was impossible not to notice the effect of the Enochian Cradle, in the fact that all of the dimensions that Astrolabe could see were dead. This power, it seems, worshiped death and madness, and it was amazing that he could still gain so much benefit from it in the first place.

Hollow Forge:

You can sculpt flesh into doorways, turning living beings into temporary gates to your Core Abyss.

Core Abyss: Your heart is a patchwork of stolen realities, shifting between forms like a thing that hasn’t decided how to hurt you yet.

Rowan frowned a bit; perhaps he had been too quick to cast judgment on the efficacy of these new changes. No matter how tame his bloodlines had made these skills, they still reeked of madness and horror.

His new Hollow Forge skill gave him a sub-skill, Core Abyss, that transformed his heart into a prison/torture chamber.

What sort of madness could birth an entity like Enoch, where everything he touched turned to works of despair?

Rowan actually felt a growing sense of alarm as he delved deeper into the abilities that were present inside of this single Enochian Cradle.

A sense of weariness was beginning to fill his senses, and he had a reckless urge to kill himself. The burden he was carrying was too much. What sort of chances could he have against a power like this when Rowan’s entire capabilities had evolved from the scraps of his bloodline?

How could he dare to call himself the first under heaven when Enoch, a creeping shadow that did not just exist in this Reality, but all Realities. He was not even sure he could win against the Primordials in the end, yet he was already glimpsing the final abomination at the end of the road.

Rowan suddenly punched the side of his head, and he whispered,

“My thoughts, be still. My destiny heralds transformation. No matter how powerful he is, Enoch is a corpse, and if he can be killed once, he can be killed again.”