The Primordial Record

Chapter 1874: The Armies of Death (1)

The Realm of Death, the Beast of Final Rest, was vast. Like Rowan had figured out, all of existence had been thrown out of balance by the actions of the Primordials, and Death had grown more powerful than it should have ever been.

At the beginning of time, Death had access to only a small corner of existence at the deepest fringes of the infinite space that would later be called Limbo.

Death had never been welcomed by the rest of existence, and its Realm represented its position in the hierarchy of reality. If everything in existence had gone according to how it was supposed to be, then its Realm would have been one of the most hidden in all existence, and very few would have known of its existence.

The seven Primordials hovered before the Realm of Death, and it was no longer one Realm; they were now billions!

“That crow grew fat on our bounty,” Xylos, Primordial Demon, grinned as he knelt down on one knee, his vast black wings spread behind him like a cloak.

“I like crows,” Eldrithor, Primordial Chaos, whispered, “this beast is not a crow, it’s much worse, an herbivore who has learned to eat spoiled meat. Look how fat it has grown, feeding on our pain and desperation.”

“That was all part of the plan,” Nyxara, Primordial Soul, smiled, “We needed his greed to balance out the outflow of souls that would have reached Enoch otherwise. Hate him all you want, but without this little beast, we would never have succeeded.”

“But that is not the question, is it, sister?” Xyris, Primordial Time, gestured towards the Realm of Death. “The beast is a repugnant creature, but it has truly grown strong as it fed on our scraps. I fear that if we don’t take on more Origin Force, then some of us may fall in this battle.”

Nyxara turned towards her brother and placed a hand on his chest, and she smiled, “Then so be it. We are all prepared to do what it takes to win, and even if I fall, I expect you to use my corpse as a ladder. The plan must be followed closely or it would all be for nothing.”

Elgorath, Primordial Memory laughed, “We have followed you through incredible hardship, Nyxara, and you have not failed us yet. We would follow your plan, and none of us would fall here.” he looked around at the rest of the Primordials, to Vorthas, Primordial Life, and Asteroath, Primordial Light. “We all knew that in one form or another, we would be standing here, and it was either we fought this beast or the child. We all knew that the greatest danger to us was the child, but his ignorance was the key to our freedom, and now we have to face the beast.”

He spread his hands wide and his golden wings flared open like a sun, and the billion Regions of Death that had been shrouded in shadows for an eternity lit up from the light emerging from Elgorath’s wings,

“We have the best outcome out of the many that could have taken place. We have already won the war, and what is next is the necessary clean-up.”

Vorthas flared his green wings, suppressing the light from Elgorath’s own, “You have always been too flashy, brother, and that cannot be permitted, not when we are so close to the end.”

Xylos stood to his full height and touched Vorthas on the shoulder, “Let him have his fun, among us all, you knew the effect of our madness was more telling on him. We could flee to the grasp of oblivion every now and then, but for Elgorath, he had to remember all of it.”

“I still don’t like it,” Xyris shrugged, his purple wings slowly beating as if they had a life of their own, “But if our next Origin Force would have to be Death, then we are at the best place to consume.”

Nyxara nodded and flew forward before turning towards the rest of her siblings, “While it might seem as if we are on the winning side, the truth is that we are very much in danger. Enoch must be aware of her betrayal and he would be coming for us, if we are to survive… no, if we are to win, then we cannot pick out the next Origin Force from Realities, it would be too slow, instead,” she turned around and gestured towards the Realm of Death, “the beast has done half our work. He has processed each Origin Force of Death into Regions, and with each Region we swallow, we quickly grow as the Primordials of Death. We will need all of that power to change Limbo to our image.”

Xylos touched his chin in contemplation, “Do we think we can bargain with the beast? I mean, we do not need a billion Origins of Death, maybe half that number, okay, maybe we might need all of them, but it would still preserve its life in the new order we are going to be creating.”

“No, the beast has tasted the powers of the Primordials for too long,” Nyxara disagreed, “his appetite has grown, and our evil infects its mind; it would not give anything up, even if what we ask for is just one Origin.” She raised one finger.

“Then let’s get it over with,” Asteroath swiped his hand to the side, “We have stood here long enough, but it has not responded.”

“Oh, but it has,” Vorthas smiled, “I don’t know about all of you, but I have been craving the Origin of Death for all eternity, and having it this close to me is seriously straining what is left of my patience. Asteroath, shine your light on its realm and see what we have to battle.”

Asteroath glanced at Vorthas for a moment before he stepped forward and spread out his white wings, unlike the golden light from

Elgorath’s wings, Asteroath’s light were penetrative.

At once, the veil that covered the realm of Death was exposed, and a gigantic army that defied all meaning was arrayed before them.