The Primordial Record

Chapter 1878: Dreams And Reality

At the eleventh level of the nameless technique, Rowan was able to bear the entire weight of ten million lives. After getting to the next level of power, he was able to bear the weight of fifty-two billion lives, clearing out every single bone inside the cave.

Yet this cave had simply been there to protect him from the full might of existence that would be pouring down upon him. Rowan should not be doing this; every particle in his body was screaming at him to run back into the cave and avoid the burden of carrying so much weight on his shoulders.

“If not me, who?” he growled as, instead of following what every part of him was telling him, he opened the doors to his body wider, and the bones pouring from the skies began to crash against his consciousness like a flood.

Pain like no other filled him completely, but Rowan welcomed the pain; instead of fleeing from it, he used it to ground himself, to focus his spirit so he could truly reflect on his reasons for bearing this burden.

It was not for him, no, whatever was happening was many times greater than he could ever choose to be, at least, not in the context that mattered. Existence needed him; his sacrifice was the answer to a cry for help that had gone on for too long.

Perhaps his main body had another road to follow, but this was his own. He would not allow existence to fade. The last shackles over his body and spirit were cast aside, and Rowan fully embraced his purpose.

This unknown realm shuddered as Rowan, despite being in pain that could not even be described, roared,

“All of you… Come to me!”

The space in this realm was infinite, and despite expanding his body and creating a million spatial tears around him, he had barely been collecting a small portion of the bones raining from the endless sky, but Rowan’s summoning changed everything.

The realm seemed to pause, and then it began to contract. As if Rowan had just become a gigantic blackhole, all the falling bones began to bend towards him in numbers that could break the mind. The countless bones on the ground started to shiver and slowly rise…

On the ground, the boy whose face only lacked eyes but could still see more clearly than should ever be possible, frowned before he laughed, “Oh, see him rising to the sun with wings of wax, and when he crashes to the earth, the sound of his defeat shall be heard all over existence.”

The voice that came from his mouth was different; it did not have the boyish intonation of Lost. Instead, it was older, as if the speaker came from a period even before sound and time were meaningful concepts.

Still, from that same mouth, the familiar voice of Lost emerged, “You are wrong about him.”

The boy grimaced and squeezed his fists so tight that they drew blood, and when he felt the sensation on his palm, it seemed to surprise him as he brought both palms to his face and began to drink the black blood pouring out from them.

In the sky, a gigantic egg, greater than a thousand Realities, was slowly contracting and expanding like a beating heart. It contracted anytime Rowan drew in the bones inside his body and expanded when more bones were inevitably added to the pile.

However, to be able to visibly notice this mound of bone contracting, given its scale, was proof of the ridiculous number of lives that Rowan was collecting with every passing moment.

In a fraction of a second, Rowan must have been consuming quadrillions of lives, a far cry from his first two attempts, and now, it was no longer about the number of lives he was collecting, but how long he would be able to last.

The boy watching brought up his right hand with his palm spread open, and then one by one, each finger of his hand began to close as he counted down the time, “Five… four… three… tw-, oh, hahaha, he did not last as long as I estimated, see that you give him too much credit.”

From above, there was a scream of pain, and the massive pile of bones hovering in the sky exploded, shortly followed by an ocean of blood that would drown out an entire universe. A relatively tiny figure fell from the sky, and his body was swept into the cave.

“I don’t know how long he would survive this stupidity, but I do not care,” the boy grinned, “It is time for me to feast.”

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EOSAH’S REALITY

Rowan’s battle, apart from the rare few that were witnessed by all, such as the battle in the Arena, mostly took place out of sight from most in Reality. It was not as if he wanted to hide himself from the eyes of others, but after reaching a certain level of power, his battles occurred on a scale that was impossible for beings of lower dimensions to fathom.

In many ways, that was the reason he could never get true companionship, as no one could fully share his vision. Eosah’s reality had been destroyed and recreated by the Primordials, and no one inside it was aware of this change, except for one person, Circe Boreas.

After freeing herself from the burden of carrying the last true bloodlines of Trion inside her body, nothing was holding back her advancement to the higher-dimensional level. Her connection with Rowan, and having had the premier bloodlines of Trion dwelling within her body for so long, had thoroughly reshaped Circe’s talent. When Rowan told her she now had the potential of becoming a Primordial, she believed him; how else was she able to rise from the fourth-dimensional level to the peak of the eighth dimension in a single decade?

Yet, what she shared with Rowan not only reshaped her body, but it also changed her mind. Circe knew of this risk when she accepted the charge to hold Rowan’s Will inside her body. You stared long enough into the Abyss, and you became a part of it.

She was able to tell when Reality ended, and she perished. Even though with the powers of the Primordials that made time and causality meaningless, Circe’s connection had made it possible for her to see beyond the scope of this Reality, and she was able to feel the moment she passed away and returned.

Circe was aware that there was a gap in her memories from between the times she died and returned, but she did not want to get back those memories, for she feared that they would only contain madness.

At the moment, she was asleep inside the living castle, Algoth, in her separate wing that she shared with Archimedes. As an Old One, she still kept this habit from her mortal life because she enjoyed the act of sleep, and she suspected that her connection with Rowan held invisible burdens on her soul that caused her to fall asleep quite often.

In her sleep, she had created a unique memory dimension that contained the planet Trion, and she was slowly remaking this planet into her image. This was the path she was going to follow to reach the ninth dimension, a planet.

It seemed small, almost inconsequential to the things surrounding her, but Circe was always willing to follow her heart; not everyone was made to shake existence.

In her memory dimension, everything was the way it was supposed to be. The sun was shining, and she, wearing the body of a mortal woman, had just finished preparing lunch for her family.

Peering through the window, she saw her husband bringing in the flock down the mountain; he looked suspiciously like Rowan, beside him were their lovely twins, Eben and Elura. She loved those names and wondered how her husband was able to find them.

Smiling she turned away from the window, but something caught her attention in the sky, ’was that a falling bone?’