The Primordial Record - Chapter 2188 The Primordial of Primordials

Chapter 2188  The Primordial of Primordials

Eos opened his eyes, and they were not the eyes of the man who had entered the Hollow and killed off all the Ancient Primordials, and they were not the eyes of the Omniversal Titan who had torn Luminious Memory apart and warred against all the greatest principalities and powers holding Esxistence hostage.

This was not the eyes of a warrior, a father, or a lover… His eyes were the eyes of Origin itself.

“Ah,” Eos breathed, and the sound was like the first note of the first song, the first heartbeat of the first living thing. “I understand now.”

The countless worlds on the tree in the core of his being began to sing.

Their song was a resonance that touched every particle of Existence, every soul that had ever been born, every hope that had ever been cherished in the dark.

The ten thousand Origin Realms felt it first, as they were the closest to Eos. The Primordials who had been fighting for so long, who had been dying and being reborn, who had been holding back the tide of annihilation with nothing but their wills and their love for a world that had given them everything, they felt the song in their bones, in their blood, in the deepest chambers of their hearts.

And some of them began to weep from the sudden, overwhelming recognition that they had never been alone. That every sacrifice they had made, every drop of blood they had spilled, every moment of fear and doubt and desperate, screaming hope, it had all been seen. It had all been held. It had all been woven into something that was only now beginning to reveal itself.

For so many mortals, gods, immortals, and even the Primordial, there was always a sense that life was utterly meaningless, but with the presence of Eos, who was now merged with Existence, they understood that their lives mattered to the greatest force in Existence; even mortals could feel the love of Eos.

For a moment, Eos allowed the force of his presence to sweep through Existence, and he finally thought that it was time for him to become a Primordial.

He pushed this power of growth that he had been holding back for so long into his crown, so it erupted like light towards it. This was the light of his endless potential, taking the next step forward in what Eos was about to become.

The light was refracted into colors, and these colors transformed into truths, and each truth was a different Origin Force, which were all the different facets of existence.

There were ten thousand and eight of these Origin Force, and Eos had painfully gathered all of them.

These ten thousand Origin Forces had been scattered across Existence since the beginning of time, and the Ancient Primordials had gathered them all into the Primordial Record. After the battle in the Hollow, he had regained every stolen Origin Force.

Although this meant there would be no more being with the power to wield the Ancient Origin Forces, Eos had given them something even better: the chance to become something that was unique only to you, and walk your path to the end.

Due to the corruption of the Ancient Primordials, the Origin Forces of Existence had been corrupted by the power of End, but Eos had cleansed this corruption by the deaths of all his Incarnations, who had performed the insane tasks of pushing so many of the Origin Forces to the fifth layer.

Eos stretched out his hand and called the Origin Forces to him, and because the core of all of these Origin was in his Origin Realms, they flowed towards him before he even began to speak.

“I see you,” he said, and each word from him was a different promise. “I have always seen you. You were never lost. You were never forgotten. You were waiting.”

The Origin Forces answered him, and they came to him not as children returning to a father who had been searching for them since the beginning of time.

 The Origin of Light blazed through his veins, and where it passed, the wounds Memory had left behind began to heal. Eos could not help but smile when he saw Lost sleeping in the core of light, sucking his thumb.

The Origin of Time wove itself into his bones, and where it passed, the fractures Xyris had created began to knit. The Origin of Chaos, wild and impossible and beautiful, poured into his heart, and where it passed, the doubt that had been planted there began to bloom into the possibility of endlessness.

As all of this was taking place, his Singularity, the Primordial Record, floated out of him, and waves of power erupted from its pages as it erased everything that had been recorded inside of it, becoming something fresh and new to announce the birth of a new being without equal.

Eos looked at the Singularity, and he called out to it, “My friend, give me my Title.”

The Primordial Record shuddered, and on its first page, a word appeared: “Here stands Eos, the Primordial of Primordials. The first… the last… the only.”

Eos smiled, and he accepted this title for his Primordial form, and his body exploded into a constellation of ten thousand lights, each one a different Origin Force, each one a different truth. And at the center of the constellation, where his heart should have been, there was a tree with countless worlds growing on its endless branches.

At this moment, in the Origin Realms or the Blackened Scar, in every corner of Existence, every thing, whether living or non living, all things great and small, turned to one direction and they bowed and worshipped Eos.

Evan was on her knees, and she was shaking under the sheer presence that Eos was radiating, her mind under profound shock from what was happening,

“He’s doing it,” she whispered, and her voice was not just filled with awe but also terror. “He’s actually doing it.”

Beside her, Telmus was on one knee, but he was slowly coming to his feet. The presence of Eos did not compel anyone to worship him, but just being aware of him was enough to push anyone to fall to their knees because there was no way to interpret a power of this level.

“I knew,” Temus said with a voice that was rough with emotion. “I knew he had something planned. I knew he wasn’t going to let us fight alone. But this…” he shook his head, and for the first time since the war began, tears streamed down his face, “…I never imagined this.”

“You are crying.” Staff whispered by his side.

Telmus sniffed, and he ignored her.