The Primordial Record - Chapter 1649: I Am Hunger

Chapter 1649: I Am Hunger
As far as Vraegar could tell, there was nothing special about this place; it just seemed to be the right place to ascend to become an Old One.
Shrugging off the beauties massaging his body, the white dragon rose and slowly spread out his wings, the popping sounds from his joints could be mistaken for the sound of a galaxy exploding.
“Watch over my chariot; it contains most of my wealth,” Vraegar instructed the treasure golem. Then he vanished, his body melding into the carriage before he appeared in the space outside of it.
Immediately, Vraegar felt a weight leave his heart. The carriage was a great vehicle, with which Vraegar could pass unhindered through most places in Reality, but he had never felt safe inside it, almost as if there was a heavy burden tied to it.
For a dragon that loved treasures as much as he did, Vraegar knew that any shiny thing that brought up fear in his heart was something that was very poisonous.
Looking around him, Vraegar saw that he was on the edge of the dominion of the Great Labyrinth. Unlike other Primordial Domains like the Celestial or the Land of Miracles, the domain of Primordial Memory was invisible.
Only a Labyrinth Specter like him could detect its boundary, and it was funny that Vraegar’s heart considered his elevation to the eighth dimension to become a done deal only when he had left the domain of Memory. If that was not an indication that he had the eyes of Memory on him, he did not know what else could cause him such a feeling of peril.
Deciding to move further away from the domain of Memory, Vraegar pushed into the darkness for millions of light years, his massive draconic form tearing through space and time with relative ease.
He could now properly sense the changes ongoing in Reality, the way the very fabrics of space seemed to be pulsing with life and potential. It would be so easy for him to absorb this power and unleash his potential, but Vraegar did not want to. Something about this power felt… pitiful, at least to the dragon’s senses, and he hated that feeling.
Vraegar looked around, searching for a place where Primordial Essence was thin. With his powerful vision, he found a location deep in the void. In that place, dead dimensions were in their millions, and the fabric of Reality was thin.
The new Reality had given birth to an age of conquest and martial strength. There was no moment when war was not ongoing, as battles were fought for the ultimate resource in all Reality, the vortex from which Primordial Essence erupts.
Being close to these vortices not only increased the amount of Essence that could be absorbed, hence a drastic increase in strength far greater than anyone else around them, but it was also with close proximity to these vortices that one could catch a glimpse of the Origin Land.
There were many rumors and speculations about the Origin Land, but one thing was clear: Any individual who was able to look through the Primordial Vortex and meditate upon the vision of the Origin Land would have their techniques and bloodlines increase in potency.
Although Primordial Essence gave life unlimited potential, it was still potential in the end, and only those who could properly apply it could create miracles from nothing. But how easy was it to create miracles?
Primordial Essence gave all beings the tools and resources, but it was with the help of the visions of the Origin Land that many began to acquire the blueprint to make their visions come true.
Recently, a new vision began to arise inside the Primordial Vortex, and it was the direction towards the Origin Land!
If so much progress could be made from just viewing the Origin Land through a foggy window, how much more could change if one could enter into that place? Was it possible for the first few to enter the Origin Land to become Primordials?!
Such speculations may have been seen as nonsense before now, but the arrival of the New Light made anything possible. It was a fact that there were now two sources of light in Reality, and Vraegar could feel it.
One source was the old and familiar light. Cold and distant. This light brought warmth, but it was superficial, and for so long, most of the inhabitants of Reality had never known how nourishing true light could be, and the birth of a new light had shown all that there could be more behind the light than judgment and fury.
The new light was warm and nourishing, but like the old light, it was also dangerous. It did not suffer fools; those who used its gift without discretion or wisdom were burned to ash in body and soul.
Shaking his massive head as if to throw away distracting thoughts, Vraegar closed his eyes and prepared for his ascension. He was unaware that the eyes of the Treasure Golem inside the carriage had changed. Now filled with flames of gold, Primordial Memory closely watched this child of Rowan.
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Settling down in the debris of shattered dimensions, the white dragon began to prepare himself for the Tribulation to become an Old One.
It was different for everyone. The Tribulation was designed around the strengths and weaknesses of the individual taking it, and the factor that determined what would occur was highly complex, especially for reaching the peak of the dimension. So, it was nearly impossible to predict what would happen, and the only thing Vraegar could do was prepare for it.
Using the power of fortune he had stolen for centuries in the Great Labyrinth, Vraegar began to fortify his luck and his overall capabilities, from his physique to his soul.
Vraegar had learned not to scatter the direction of his powers and focus on a singular power, and with that power, he could boost his capabilities. He was forced to do this so he could remain low-key inside the Great Labyrinth.
“But that time has passed!” Vraegar roared to the heavens and shattered the last boundary of fate holding him back from his destiny.
In his heart, his father’s voice resounded, “My son, show me who you are.”
“I am the dragon whose hunger for dominion would shake all existence! I come for apptheosis. I come for the usurpation of the cosmic rule!”
The Tribulation fell upon Vraegar, firstborn of the Eclipsed Creator.
There were various Tribulations that came for every Old One, and in Vraegar’s case, something startling happened, and it was unknown if Rowan had predicted this change, but the Tribulation he faced was… evolution.
Like his father, he would have to evolve, but his own would be quick and brutal, compressing evolutions that would have taken many billions of years into a short period. If Vraegar could survive it, then his Tribulation would be over.
His evolution began, and Vraegar roared in agony as his instinct and every cell in his body began to crave the flesh of the divine. His mind had gone blank, filled with the madness of bloodlust. His red eyes turned towards the depths of Reality, searching for the most significant gathering of gods. When Vraegar found it, his body blurred into the distance, leaving only an echo of his hungry cry.
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A Primordial Vortex had been born in the center of an eighth-dimensional Star of the Supreme Solar God Emperor Phospho. With this power, Phospho had been able to build an Empire of gods whose burning light cut across vast swatches of Reality; these gods served the Old Light and were envious of this New Light.
God Emperor Phospho had seen the Origin Land through the Primordial Vortex, and he believed that in time, if he could reach the Origin Land, he would gather enough power to pull down the New Light and ascend to the ranks of Primordial.
There could only be one light that shines across existence, and that light would be coming from him.
God Emperor Phospho had already figured out the direction of the Origin Land, and on this day, he gathered all the subordinate gods that were under him. All were also God Emperors, but Phospho had peered deepest into the Origin Land, and his powers were the greatest among them.
They were to be his herald and set the path for him. As Phospho reached out with his gauntleted hand to command the gods to search for the Origin Land, Darkness covered the sky as vast membranous wings blotted out the heavens, and the roar of a dragon shook the entire dimension.
The scale of Vraegar under the madness of his Tribulation had turned red like clotted blood, and was shimmering with an eerie parasitic luminescence, as ancient sigils of devouring were slowly being etched upon them by his Will consumed by madness.
His eyes burning like dying stars peered upon the gods below, and Vraegar grinned, his voice like a thunderstorm rumbled,
“I am Hunger.”
The dragon charged down to feast.
