The Primordial Record

Chapter 2132  I Am Just Getting Started

There were many ways for him to refine his knowledge of the Origin of Truth, but the brutal beat down of Primordial Chaos was necessary in Eos’s mind; the countless screaming souls and memories in his crown demanded blood and pain, and Eos would give them in full.

This was not even acknowledging Eos’s pain that needed to be vented, and he could not help it; he had come to love the sound of these creatures begging for their life at the end.

Primordial Chaos was small now. The infinite maybe of his form had been reduced to a sphere the size of a planet, then a moon, then a mountain, then a house, then a man.

At this level, he was only a pathetic remnant of his past glory. With his connection to the Ouroboros Serpents, he could feel their scales becoming saturated with the power of End.

Every action that was happening here, without the scales of the Ouroboros Serpents acting like a gigantic lightning rod grounding the power of End, then Eos would not have been able to kill Memory or be on his way to nearly kill Primordial Chaos.

End was a force of dissolution, and if Eos wanted to kill Memory without the understanding of its laws, the Luminious would have shaken off his attempt like a bad cold, only the fact that the sheer energy of destruction and ending that was emerging from the catastrophic destruction of these nigh eternal beings was being siphoned to the scales of the Ouroboros.

Of all his bloodlines, only these serpents would be able to bear the weight of carrying all of this destruction on their scales, and he could only encourage them to hold on for as long as possible, so he could wipe out the plague that had afflicted Existence for so long.

Eos grabbed the diminished form of Primordial Chaos with his remaining hand.

“You want to be undefined? To be eternal chaos on an Existence that craved the emergence of order and peace,” he snarled. “Fine. I’ll define you as mine. It should be a fitting end for someone like you.”

He shoved Primordial Chaos into his chest, in the Maw That Crafts. And there, in the furnace of his being, he shaped it using his Will of Truth that had reached the Fourth Layer.

He did not consume Eldrithor; the Ancient Primordials were too foul for something like that, but many forget that one of his greatest talents was that he was a Maker, and Primordial Chaos was being forged in the heat of Eos’s being.

Eldrithor screamed as he was forced into form after form. First a sword, then a universe, then a thought, then a god, then a child’s drawing, then a mathematical equation, then a song, then a death, then a birth—then—

The Ancient Primordial had broken through the shockwaves of the clash when they saw the remnant of the clash, and they halted, shock filling their bodies.

Eos stood, still broken, but Primordial Chaos was no more.

Eos’s strange body of light shuddered, and he straightened, and it was possible at this moment to see inside his body as seven seeds, blazing with light, arranged themselves across Eos’s body as they were planted in his Origin Land.

The Ancient Primordials did not feel the death of Primordial Chaos, and that was what made it worse, because Eos had done something insane; he did not kill Primordial Chaos in the traditional sense, he just transformed him, and this transformation was so vast and complete that he had killed Eldrithor in a way that was more terrible and more complete than anything that they could have ever imagined.

This was the first time Eos had used the Will of Truth in this manner, and the first thing he did with it was transforming an Ancient Primordial into seeds of power that had never existed before as Eos created a new truth… There had never been a Primordial Chaos, there had never been Eldrithor… just this seed of potential that he had claimed to become one of the foundations of his Origin Land.

 His crown shone with a purple light that shook the surrounding dimensional spaces as a new voice joined the chorus of voices emerging from Eos’s crown,

“I am possibility,” it whispered. “I am maybe. I am choice. And through you, my Maker and Creator, I am real.”

Eos looked at where his left arm used to be, and it was already growing back as the seed of the chaotic energy that ravaged his body, both from Memory and Primordial Chaos were being drawn into the seven seeds roving through his body, as their task was to erase anything that did not align with the harmony of Eos’s divine form.

The stump bulged, and from it emerged a new arm that was better and stronger than his previous arm, and this change was rippling across his body as he incorporated the transformed Chaos’s essence into the core of his Will of Truth.

In this way, his Will of Truth had evolved, and this arm was the physical representation of that change, as the arm was a question that could not be answered since it both existed and didn’t, and Existence had to accept this truth.

Eos flexed his new fingers, and they flickered in and out of certainty. In a way, this was similar to what Nyxara wanted to do to the rest of her siblings, but Eos was not assimilating Origin Force; he was transforming it to complement his own Origin Force.

“Oh, this shit is becoming ridiculous,” Eos whispered in admiration and shock, not fully expecting that a fully leveled Will of Truth could be able to achieve something like this, and he did not know what to fully expect going forward, and this unknown factor was enticing on a deep level.

The four remaining Ancient Primordials stared at Eos, and there was silence for a moment as they looked at what he had become. A weird light flashed across Nyxara’s eyes, but all of that was hidden under a wall of rage so terrible that it shook the surrounding space.

“You are changing,” Xyris, Primordial Time observed. “You have consumed our brother, and with this act of madness, your fate would be terrible, Eos.”

” Be concerned with yourself,” Eos said. “I’m just getting started.”