Below the two Primordials, the Origin Realm of Spatial Harmony was already drowning. The Necroflores had taken root in their floating continents, their forests of bone and screaming flesh spreading like cancer. The Chronophages coiled through their dimensional clusters, aging stars to cold death in seconds, reducing civilizations to dust before they could even cry out. And everywhere, everywhere, the Soulwraiths drifted, drinking the memories of a realm that had been peaceful for a hundred million years.
With every moment that passes, trillions are dying. This number was hard for a mortal mind to comprehend, as the scale of it was too vast for them to fully know its significance, but a Primordial was able to comprehend every single life that was passing away, and the pain of it was breaking their hearts.
"You will rebuild it," Eva said. "When this is over. Everything that is taken away from us would be returned a thousand times over."
Aetheron’s laugh was soft. "You always see the path forward, don’t you, Revelation? Even when there is none."
Before Eva could respond, the void above them shifted.
The Incarnations of Eos had reached Enoch.
Ⓥ
The 6,320 Incarnations moved as one, their forms blurring through the layers of reality with a speed that made the Primordials below seem frozen.
They were all equal as they were all fragments of Eos, and in this moment, they were united by a will that could forge Existence itself.
At the moment, they were all at the fourth layer of their Ancient Origin, and they could not access the memories of the Incarnations inside the Eternal Tower; otherwise, some of them would have begun to touch the door to the fifth layer of their Origin.
However, they were still connected to Eos, and some of the changes happening to the Incarnations inside the Eternal Tower were beginning to reach Eos, especially the change within Primordial Light.
Reaching the fifth layer of Light enabled the vast gulf that separated Existence and the Eternal Tower to be shrunken, and part of his experience flowed into Eos, and this experience was sent to the Incarnations now attacking Enoch.
At their head flew Rowan, the Primordial of Lightning. His body was a spear of radiance that cut through the darkness of the breach, and behind him, the other Incarnations followed in a formation that was both a weapon and a shield.
Enoch watched them come in silence. His face without features turned toward the approaching lights, and the spiral galaxies of End that served as his eyes began to spin faster.
The hand that gripped the breach tightened, and from the Blackened Scar behind him, something else began to emerge, a shoulder, vast enough to eclipse a million Realities, followed by the suggestion of a torso that seemed to contain within it the architecture of a forgotten Existences.
Myrra, whose form was struggling to maintain its integrity, was shattered to pieces under the weight of Luminious Transformation’s arrival, and she could only scream in shock and anger as she was banished from Existence.
The third layer was the Woven Layer, the lightning of connection. This was the power to trace the Origin of all things using the spark inside of them, the Primordial of Lightning who had reached the third layer could not be hidden from, and they could send down bolts of punishment from any corner of Existence to chase down their target, and they could reach, across all dimensions, space, time, memory, fate and destiny.
And the fourth and final layer of lightning was the Sovereign Layer, the lightning of Will, and this was a power that was supposed to be the peak of lightning, as it gave the Primordial the ability to imbue lightning with Will, and this slight distinction changed everything.
When Primordial Lightning struck Enoch’s hand, he was not just using his powers, but the entirety of the Origin Realms itself and all of its occupants. It was a blow that said you do not belong here with the authority of a law of existence... such a blow could only come from Primordial Lightning.
Enoch’s fingers trembled. A crack appeared along the bone-white surface, and a light so pure and so old that it seemed to be the original light, the first photon that had ever escaped the lips of a creator burst out from this crack... this light was the light of Lumina, and as amazing as it was, the blow from Primordial Light had injured Enoch, but there was no avenue for celebration, when the sheer size of this being was placed into the equation.
"You carry his blood," Enoch said, and there was something in his voice that might have been recognition. "I remember this light. It was mine, once."
The other Incarnations were not just watching Primordial Lightning fight alone; he was the first to strike, but the others followed behind him, and six thousand blades of Origin Essence, each tuned to a different frequency of existence, carved into Enoch’s hand. The impossible power of Origin continued to flow past his wrist and the emerging contours of his shoulder.
Space screamed and time fractured, as the breach shuddered, and for a moment, Enoch was being pushed back.

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