The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1983

Chapter 1983: You Have Fallen

Nyxara pushed her way out of the formation created by her siblings and looked at this Mandala of horror that had taken the shapes of the Primordials,

"So, with all the resources you have to work with, this is the greatest weapon you can create? These pale imitations of our glory?"

The creatures shaped by the power of Death roared in rage, and the sound was horrifying, emerging from an age that was alien to this Existence, because while it was true that Existences perish and are rebirthed, their essence was always subtly different.

In some Existence in the past, light was different, more dim or some were brighter, in others, the hardest substance was stone and not metal, but these were just the physical changes, the greatest changes were usually spiritual.

The Power Systems of each Existence may appear similar on the surface, but the differences would stump most immortals, and immortals across different Existences would struggle to understand the intricacies of the other immortal’s art.

A slight change in the variation of spiritual power may make an immortal entirely hopeless against an opponent from another Existence, and the Primordials knew this, but they were not afraid of challenges like these, because they were among the few immortals across Existence that were uniquely suited to handle problems like these.

Their first advantage was that they came from a Luminious; their father, Enoch, was the heir of the most powerful race that had ever existed, and because the Primordials had devoured the Origins of so many Realities, the Primordials had accumulated endless variations of the Origin force they controlled.

Every Origin Force was subtly different, and this meant that, in essence, the Primordials were able to mimic the effect of spiritual variation quite easily, and this was the reason that Nyxara was disdainful of this move from Death.

Asteroath stepped forward to stand beside Nyxara, white wings flaring to their fullest brilliance since the beginning of this endless battle. "Your time is over, and you will be unmade by our hands," he declared, channeling his Origin Force into a beam of revelatory light.

The beam struck the mandala’s core, and for a heartbeat, it illuminated the horror within resurrected by Death. Layers upon layers of compressed suffering, and undead souls fused into a single, writhing mass. In this Existence, the soul had been closer to the flesh, and Death had chosen this creature because it knew of this unique property they had.

The mandala recoiled, fractal arms fracturing under the assault, but it adapted much quicker than the Primordials expected; its core pulsed, inverting the light while drawing all the scattered pieces of itself into its core so it stood as one Primordial being instead of many.

Asteroath’s beam bent backward, folding upon itself like origami made of fire as it reversed back to him, much faster than he had sent it out, mimicking what Death had used against the Primordial before.

The Primordials were powerful, but their battle awareness were still lacking, and Asteroath tried to dodge the beam, but he was a bit too slow and he was struck in the side of his chestIt struck him in the chest. The light that slammed against him carried the weight of an Existence that had expired long before this one, forcing the Primordial to see the truth of his own corruption.

"Don’t forget, your fight is still with me. Now fight for your admission into my kingdom."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify