The Primordial Record

Chapter 2171  To Be Remebered

After living for so long, Eos knew that beauty could sometimes be found in the oddest of places, and this garden was not what he was expecting to find during his battle with the Ancient Primordials.

Even he, as a Grand Creator, had never seen a garden like this.

In it, flowers of every color bloomed, each one a different life, a different possibility, a different choice. Trees grew from branches, each one a different world, a different Existence, a different kind of hope.

“I remember,” Vorthas said, and his voice was like a song. “I remember what it was like to create. Not just to consume everything, but to create. Five seconds as Primordial Life, that was all the time I had to know this feeling before it was taken away from me… thank you, Eos, for giving me the courage to find it again.”

His form slowly dissolved into light, and from that light, a world emerged that hung over the garden like a green sun.

It was a world of green and growing things. Where life did not consume, but nourished.

A world where the first flower still bloomed in the first soil, and where that flower was still being watched by something that had been waiting for this moment.

Eos watched the world bloom in the void, and for a moment, just a moment, he allowed himself to feel something that was not fury or hunger or the cold certainty of a warrior who had accepted that death and destruction were the only ways to end this endless conflict.

He allowed himself to feel joy.

Primordial Life may have just gotten five seconds to be a Primordial of Life before he was overtaken by madness, but in that short time, he had dreamed of creating a place like this.

It was easy to disregard the dreams and fears of his enemies, but Eos was not like that… even the greatest of evils can sometimes have beautiful dreams.

This garden, created by Vorthas, was fragile. It was like a child learning to walk for the first time; there was passion behind it and the desire to grow strong and fast, but it was not enough.

The only reason Primordial Life had the confidence to create something like this was that it knew that Eos was here.

Like a child that would run knowing that the strong hand of their father was there to catch them when they fell, Vorthas was not scared to make his first real creation because he knew that Eos was there to ensure that it lived.

Stretching one of his hands, Eos gathered the garden and the budding world, and he placed them inside his Origin Land.

This event had not taken a long time, but when he looked up, Nyxara was gone.

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TEN THOUSAND ORIGIN REALMS.

The soul of Eos that rose from the shattered Mountain stood before the breach above the ten thousand Origin Realms, and only his existence changed the entire situation. His presence was simply so vast that Enoch, who had unmade Realities with a thought, found himself pausing.

Enoch knew that Eos had gained some of the powers of the Luminious, and yet that was not supposed to translate to whatever this soul had just become.

“Everything… I have done everything.”

Those words seemed so simple, but there were countless mysteries inside them that caused the spiral galaxies of End that served as his eyes to flicker.

He seemed to be recalibrating everything he knew about Eos as he attempted to comprehend what stood before him. It was with a deep sense of astonishment that Enoch realized that he did not fully understand what the soul of Eos had become.

Not too long ago, he had found amusement in twisting the mind of Rowan, the Incarnation that had found his way into his prison, and through their interaction, Enoch had understood the baseline of Eos’s knowledge, and noticing how much he was lacking, Enoch began to bury seeds of lies and half-truths to twist the mind of the Incarnation.

And yet, here he was, and he had become the one who was ignorant.

For sixty-five million Cosmic Eras, Enoch had watched Existence from his prison beyond the veil.

He had seen civilizations rise and fall and had orchestrated and witnessed the birth of the Ancient Primordials and the slaughter they had unleashed on all Existence.

Enoch had seen the fall of the Old Ones, and the slow, grinding expansion of an Existence that had no purpose except to grow… he had seen everything.

But he had never seen this.

Yet, as he watched, he saw that the soul of Eos was not hiding its nature; in fact, there was no attempt to shield his light from Existence. It was as if he was announcing himself to all there was so they could be aware of his presence.

Enoch began to scrutinize the soul of Eos. Was it a weapon? But mostly, no, there was no direction for ending life inside his light.

Then was this soul a shield? The answer was yes, but mostly, also no; nothing about this figure of light was hiding its nature, and this did not seem like it was meant to protect.

What was it then?

The truth of the answer came to Enoch with such a suddenness that he nearly flinched.

This soul… It was a mirror.

Enoch’s featureless face tilted, and in the surface of the soul’s light, he saw himself.

The image he saw was him as a young Liminious, a creator and a dreamer of such hope and beauty that he had burned his body and soul just so that the endlessness of the void he could see was filled with potential. Enoch had told Rowan many lies, but for lies to work on a consciousness as powerful as Rowan’s, there needed to be hints of the truths; it was these undeniable foundations that lies were forged upon.

Beside that image of him as a creator, was his present state, now as a creature of End and transformation.

Enoch saw the truth of who he was… and he hated it.

It was always easy to lie to yourself about the truth of your objective because most of us could not see our true selves reflected back at us… and even for immortals as powerful as Enoch, he could not see the height of his cowardice and hatred until it was placed side by side.

Except with a mirror or the eyes of others, it was impossible to know your true reflection, and for Enoch, this was the first time he was seeing his true reflection.

There was an invitation here by this soul… if he could lay down his purpose, he would be able to see the core of who he was underneath the unending hunger.

It was this invitation that caused Enoch’s hate and rage to grow.

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Enoch was not the only one being affected by this light; inside the vastness of the soul’s presence, the Primordials who had stood on the Mountain felt themselves pulled into something they could not name. It was as if they were being remembered.