The Primordial Record

Chapter 1840: Infinite Rage… Infinite Grief

Although Rowan felt he should have expected something like this, it was still shocking to him. Incarnation meant that Enoch might have more freedom to express his Will, and if this was a new development, then it did not bode well for him or all of existence.

Nevertheless, there was good news alongside the bad; an Incarnation meant that Rowan’s chance of success and coming out alive, although he did not know how much of himself would remain, was far more than his previous estimation.

Relentless waves of power that sought to ground him into place filled Rowan’s Incarnation, and his body, which was held in place, began to burn.

If Rowan had been present in Reality, the light and heat radiating from his body would be so bright that he would be seen from every corner of Reality; it did not matter the distance, and the temperature released by his body would vaporize a third of Reality, leaving a hole that would strain the boundaries of Reality.

Yet, all of this heat was nothing but a minor by-product of the actual battle ongoing inside Rowan. His Incarnation would not survive this, but Rowan did not care; he wanted to fight!

The door to the ninth dimension was not only held back by a single being, but they still wanted to dictate his existence… ‘Enoch, who the fuck do you think you are?!’

“RRRAAAARRRGH!!!”

A roar that emerged from the core of who he was tore through the throat of his Incarnation, as Rowan, taken past his limit, finally found a steady ground beneath him, created by his Will.

A massive shockwave erupted from his body that distorted the space around him, and in this moment, Rowan did not care to hold back any longer, pushing ninety-nine percent of his physical attributes over to the Incarnation. His main body collapsed, and his Origin Land went dark.

The hand of woven nothingness closed, its touch beginning to un-knit the very concept of “Rowan.” But in that nanosecond before absolute erasure, the Apex Omniversal Titan roared to life.

Rowan’s Incarnation eyes that had been closed burst open and revealed his eyes that had peered beyond eternity, and they were burning… his potential that could have kept him past the end of time was being combusted in a short period.

“FWOOOSHH!!”

The air above his head seemed to combust as the Reality Crown manifested as a diadem of screaming, dying dimensions.

It was a halo of raw creation and destruction that flared against the oppressive stillness. The hand about to touch Rowan froze in place, and this was not a manipulation of time or the effect of his consciousness power; the hand had truly frozen in place.

This stoppage was for a brief moment before the hand would resume its inevitable judgment. Still, before it would happen, Rowan’s Reality-Forged Physiology burst out its unique Aura that radiated outward like the explosion of a supernova. Once more, the hand was frozen in place; there was a sign that it was even pushed back a bit.

His Passive Reality Aura, which usually enforced his will upon his surroundings, now became a shield of pure ontological assertion. It was a bubble of “Is” pushing back against a directive of “Is Not.”

This was the core of his defense: Self-Willed Existence. The hand’s function was to delete an error. Rowan’s Will was to be an undeniable, self-justifying fact.

In his battle against Primordials, he did not reveal his true form because, truthfully, they did not deserve to see his glory.

The hand had truly been pushed back a bit, less than a nanometer, but Rowan was not done… his Incarnations might be powerful, but they were nowhere as robust as his main body, determined to bring out all his talents to bear.

The space around Rowan seemed to freeze, and then his wings burst out from his back. His Wings of the Omniverse radiated the purest dimensional forces that only a Reality could touch; they did not flap, but vibrated, producing a frequency to counter the silent, deleting hum of the hand, desperately trying to anchor him in the limited meaning it was trying to impose on Rowan.

The vibration burst out from his wings in pulses of pure Will that could be seen with the clear eyes, and the hand that was about to touch him was pushed back until it was several feet away, and with every vibration that was released by his wings, the hand was pushed further back.

Rowan’s Incarnation shook slightly; the pressure that had fixed him in place like an insect trapped inside glass had subtly reduced, and his mouth cracked open.

His main body, which had previously released ninety-nine percent of all its physical essence a moment back, had barely regained thirty percent of his total energy capacity when Rowan sent it over to his Incarnation, using his consciousness as a bridge.

Blood, as shiny as liquid gold, was pouring from the mouth of the Incarnation as he invoked Absolute Dominion!

“I AM THE LAW… I AM TRUTH! I AM ETERNAL!”

This was an invocation of his Titan’s Apotheosis, which showed that his transformation was not just of the body; it was a contextual ascension that had never existed before, and Enoch had no power to change his reality as he saw fit. If the hand wanted to make him a variable, Rowan chose to remain a constant.

The hand that was being pushed back suddenly exploded in intensity, overwhelming the force that Rowan was bringing against it, and began to creep closer to Rowan, a fury that could burn all existence, beginning to arise from the calm, calculating resolve that previously filled it.

The Incarnation grinned, “If you think you can take me on without a fight, think again!” and his eyes, which were blazing like the sun, transformed into a lake of blood, ghosts, and slaughter.

Red and black armor that almost resembled a mountain of bleeding flesh and metal snapped shut over Rowan’s body as he unleashed an Apocalyptic Onslaught.

Infinite rage, infinite bloodlust, infinite grief and loss exploded out of Rowan with such force that this space, which had not been shaken since the beginning of this confrontation, began to vibrate.

All of this power was made into a needle point and struck the incoming hand. It went still, and with a soundless sigh, a crack that nearly ran down the entire arm appeared on it.

The hand paused, and then it began to withdraw. Whatever alien mind that oversaw this hand knew that this level of battle was unexpected, and it needed to bring this information back to its maker.

Rowan lunged forward and grabbed the hand, “Where do you think you are going?!” Madness filled his eyes, as his rage and anger that could not be measured took over his senses.

Rowan had suffered greatly inside a Reality where madness had become the norm, and if there were a chance, he would find the person responsible for creating a world like this; they would taste his fury.

“You…”

“You do not know who you are fucking with,” Rowan growled, and in this state of madness, through his Incarnation, Rowan unleashed his Eclipsed Form.

Outside Reality, the eyes of the seven Primordials snapped open.