The Primordial Record novel Chapter 2133

Chapter 2133: Opening The Gates of Doom

The blackened scar in Limbo pulsed like an infected wound that was on the verge of explosion as the unholy labors of the six corrupted Ancient Primordials continued.

Even without their presence, the creation and expansion of their unholy armies continued without ceasing, as the scar, the location of their cursed birthplace, was filled with the Wills of all the Ancient Primordials, and these creatures were born knowing nothing but pain and death and the desire to inflict that pain on all life.

The problem was that at this point in time, Existence was seemingly empty, and the only place in it that was filled with life was the Origin Realms.

And in the minds of these foul creatures, the Origin Realms blazed like the sun, and they could feel its light stabbing into their senses like a hot knife drilling into the brain, causing them anguish, anger, and a profound desire to consume that light.

All of this was deliberately designed by the Ancient Primordials to breed an attitude of untold hatred towards the Origin Realms and all of its denizens, and only their adamantite grip caused the growing army to remain inside the blackened scar.

Then, like a hammer struck directly to their brains, the order to attack the source of their pain and hunger arrived without warning, and chaos began to ripple across their ranks.

The sky above the blackened scar was filled with sickly green auroras writhing above the agitated hosts like dying nerves as the emotions of desolation arising from their endless number were beginning to tear Existence apart.

The ever-expanding armies, each a grotesque mockery of creation, forged from stolen essence, devoured hope, and the bitter dregs of End, coalesced into a single, apocalyptic host under the call of their master, and space itself recoiled, and reality frayed at the seams as trillions upon trillions of monstrosities gathered under their masters’ command.

The sky that had protected Existence from this army was broken in two with a loud crash that resounded all over Existence and caused the armies of the Origin Realms to go on alert. For a hundred million years, they had been preparing for this day.

If the arrangement had gone in the direction of the Agreement made, then they should have had at least three billion years to prepare, but they all knew that this Agreement was just a paper that could not cover the flames of greed and maliciousness from the Ancient Primordials, and a hundred million years was even more time than some of their projections had given them.

For a moment, the expansion of Existence slowed down, as if it were observing the conflict that was about to occur that would decide its fate.

Nyxara’s Soulwraiths formed the vanguard of this unholy host. They resembled an endless sea of translucent black mist that swallowed light.

Their faceless vortices churned with the echoes of every betrayal ever suffered, their silent presence a suffocating weight that would make even the hardened guardians of the Origin Realms falter.

They were the first outside the gates, and they began to transform into black mist, causing their presence to vanish as behind them slithered and scuttled Xylos’s Abyssal Brood.

These were writhing carpets of wolf-sized insectile horrors, their venom-dripping mandibles promising visions of infinite treachery.

When they merged into Brood Titans, the ground itself screamed as colossal amalgamations of screaming mouths and burrowing corruption rose like living mountains of despair.

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