The Primordial Record

Chapter 2129  Killing Memory

As Memory fought to escape the hold of Eos with all his might, chunks of Eos’s prismatic flesh were ripped away, screaming as they died. Even diminished under the light of the Crucible, Memory was a Luminious, and his strength was the peak of what Existence knew for a very long time.

The only problem was that Eos was too big and he regenerated a little too quickly to be decimated by this effort, not even when a cluster of his too-many joints shattered, spraying golden ichor that tore into Existence, and resounded into the distance of space and time.

Even still, it was not enough. Memory was screaming and fighting, calling for the aid of the other Ancient Primordials, but they seemed to all be frozen in place at the spectacle before them. It was as if everything they knew before was a lie, and now they were seeing the real face of Existence.

It was not so long ago that they had Eos under their thumb, and they could manipulate him to do anything they wanted. He was a child born with a blind fold, and his mind had been broken time and time again. Despite his overwhelming talent, they had the assurance inside them that Eos would never exceed a certain limit.

As it turned out, they were all fools, and they were the real pawns in the game, and the evidence for this was screaming for their help before it was devoured by an abomination that defied meaning.

The truth was that Memory could have given Eos a much greater fight than this, but a moment before, Enoch was born, and in an act of profound hunger and selfishness, he had consumed all the unique essence of the sixth dimension all over Existence to power the reclamation of his new body.

With Eos omniversal physique, he could grab all of his echoes that were spread all over the parallel realities, but there were many more out there, and Memory as a Luminious would have been able to wield all of that strength, but Enoch had taken it all.

Eos remained silent as Memory raged; the strength in his arms was enough to crack Existence in two, and it was all of that strength that was pulling Memory towards his death.

“Stop Eos, you do not want to kill me.. I know many things, secrets that you would need. Trust me, I can serve under your banner; you would need my strength for what is to come for you. The Great Hand, you will need me to fight against him!”

Finally, Eos paused, and the suggestion of his face cracked, and for a moment, something real peeked through, something vast and hungry and ancient.

“Your time has come to an end, Memory, and your memories would serve me a thousand times better than you ever could.”

“YOU WILL NOT CONSUME ME!” Memory howled. “I AM ETERNAL! I AM THE RECORD OF ALL THAT WAS! WITHOUT ME, NOTHING IS REMEMBERED! WITHOUT ME, YOU—”

“You’ll be part of me,” Eos snarled. “And through me, you’ll be remembered forever.”

With a final pull that crushed whatever resistance that Memory had over Existence, Eos pushed him through the gate and the Crucible closed.

There was a very brief moment of silence when the spell that EOs seemed to have conjured over this space was slowly breaking, and then Memory screamed.

In his cries, everyone heard the fact that Memory was not screaming for just a moment, or an hour, no, inside the Crucible, he had been screaming for eternities.

Memory screamed as his infinite libraries burned, and his countless books were digested. He screamed as every forgotten divinity, immortal, and mortal ever housed in his memories was released into Eos’s blood, where they joined the chorus of dead divinities, causing the crown hovering over Eos’s head to brighten and expand.

Countless eternities passed in a moment, and when the screaming stopped, Eos cracked his neck, even though there was no need for that action, and he looked towards the Ancient Primordials and smiled, billions of fangs of light shining in his mouth, “Delicious.”

Although the battle may have looked effortless on Eos’s part, he was bleeding from a thousand wounds. His prismatic form was tattered, with chunks missing where Memory’s attacks had landed. His too-many joints were broken, hanging at angles that even he couldn’t justify. The suggestion of his face was gone entirely, replaced by the truth, a void where features should be, a hole in the world shaped like a person.

The blows of Memory were heavy, and his touch lingered on Eos’s body, carrying a taint that was so pure, it was almost above the concept of Origin itself, and Eos knew that if he had hesitated in his actions and given this Luminious the chance to regain his footing, there was a great possibility that he would have died here.

However, he would take a wound like this a thousand times again because in his blood, a new voice whispered.

“I remember,” the voice said. “I remember everything. And through you, I will never be forgotten.”

Eos spat golden-black ichor onto the void; it sizzled where it landed, burning holes in the dimensional fabric. He hugged himself for a moment as if he was cold, and then he screamed as light and pure force burst out of his body.

For all the eternities that Memory had spent screaming and dying, the pressure of containing the death of a Luminious was tearing Eos apart. Memory was a being that should never die, was not made to die, as the concept of death was not written in any part of its code, but Eos was able to deceive this code, and that happened because Memory had brought himself into the painting.

Outside the painting, his immortal nature meant there was nothing that Eos would be able to do against Memory, but inside Existence, then they were all bound by the same rules, and victory would come to the swift and the strong.

The explosion was sudden, and the Ancient Primordials could not even defend against it as they were thrown into the distance, and the Hollow was shredded to nothing.

Faintly in the distance could be heard the pained cries of the Ouroboros Serpents as they endured the blast of power erupting from Eos’s body.