The Primordial Record novel Chapter 2199

Chapter 2199: Rest Now, Enoch

The heel of Eos came down with the sound of ending.

It was the small, quiet, honest end that came to all things. The end of a candle. The end of a breath. The end of a war that had lasted longer than any war had the right to last.

Perhaps it was a death that was a bit too mild for a creature such as Enoch, but Eos did not care to extend this war longer than he should, and as long as Enoch dies, this was all that mattered.

Enoch’s face crumpled inward, the remnants of the ichor in his veins ceased flowing, and the mouths that had torn themselves from every surface of his body fell silent, one by one.

And at the very end, his eye went dark, and they were filled with anguish, shock, and fear... it was a very mortal expression for a being that once had the power to dictate the fate of all beings inside Existence.

Eos sighed as he stood over the body of the thing that had called itself the end of all things, and he did not feel triumphant. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

He felt exhausted as he carried with him the ache of a wound that had healed but would always carry the scar.

He reached down, and he closed what was left of Enoch’s eye.

"You were the first," Eos said, and his voice carried the quiet weight of truth. "You were the most beautiful thing your creator ever made. And your creator broke you because beauty, left to grow on its own, always becomes something its maker cannot control. Origin could give birth to me because of your desire for truth. Rest now, Enoch, and if all beings forget your name... I will remember you."

He straightened, and he whispered,

"That is not your sin... that is your tragedy."

Eos finally looked up into the darkness of the void, and he knew that his battle was not over; in fact, it was just beginning.

The void was silent around him as the Origin Tree rose up higher behind him, its branches reaching through the broken fabric of the old Existence and into the darkness beyond it, and it began to plant Origin stars in places that had never known light.

Its roots had anchored themselves in the conceptual bedrock of non-existence, and they were drinking deep, and where they drank, the dark remembered what it had been before the Great One had claimed it as his shadow.

Origin had been born in the nothingness of the void, and in that nothingness, it was beginning to bring back light.

Eos could not run from what was to come; he could not hide; he could only confront it.

In the distance, the Eternal Tower stood, and he knew they were watching him.

Eos did not hurry to attack; instead, he focused on completing his merger with Existence and gaining his new Essence. Only then would he gain the foundation of bringing this war to a conclusion.

®

Eos raised his eyes to the Tower. He had all the memories of it from his Incarnation, and he knew that even inside the Origin Realms, there was a small part of the Eternal Tower inside.

With his understanding of the dimensions, he knew that what was inside his Origin Realm was a projection, and Eos had wrapped it inside a prison, because he considered this projection to be his spoil of war.

Still, seeing the Eternal Tower through the minds of his Incarnation could not replace seeing it with fresh eyes after reaching the peak of the ninth-dimensional level.

It was vast, a structure that both seemed to have no right to exist here, between Existences, outside of any reality that could give it meaning, and yet, also seemed to be the only reason that the void even existed.

To wrap your mind around this sort of dissonance was troubling, but Eos was already used to such eldritch reasonings.

"I have seen your kind before," the voice continued. "In forty-three previous Existences that I have entirely erased, something like you has risen. A being that should not be. A being that grows where it should only consume, that loves where it should only take, that insists on surviving in ways that break every rule I have written." The voice paused as if it was tasting the words it was about to say next, "And every one of them, in the end, faced me."

"And?" Eos said.

"And every one of them lost."

Eos tilted his head, and the ten thousand lights of his crown that were dim and flickering, many of them dark with the cost of what he had done, cast long shadows across the void.

"Tell me," he said, "do you understand what you are admitting?"

Silence.

"You are admitting," Eos said slowly, "that in forty-three Existences, something like me was born. Something you did not plan for. Something that broke the rules you wrote."

He looked up at the highest window and its questioning light. "You have written the same story forty-three times, and forty-three times, the story surprised you. And you call yourself the Great One."

The light in the window pulsed.

"You are interesting," the voice said. "They were all interesting. That does not change what comes next."

"No," Eos agreed. "But it changes who I am when I face it."