The Primordial Record

With the enhanced perception of Noctis, he had been to notice that there was a lot of death domains linked to the different regions of the realm of Death clustered around the Bleak Gate.

It was as he had feared, Rowan had drawn too much attention to himself with the power of his soul and the ridiculous amount of time he took to fully enter the realm of death.

This commotion was vastly greater than Noctis had expected. If it were two or even three regions of Death, then he might be able to intercede for Rowan, but the brief glimpse he had seen before his consciousness was blasted away was at least fifty regions of Death!

Noctis had not even been aware that there were so many regions in this realm. With things reaching this point, Noctis no longer knew what to expect from this matter, as it had already far exceeded his level; the only thing he could do was observe and see if he could fish for any benefit.

He consoled himself that even if Rowan was lost, the fruit of his labor, the New Light, was still inside his castle, and with this power, they could fight against the Primordials.

Knowing he could no longer charge into the realm of Death as before, Noctis began his journey back to the Bleak Gate, but now he was using a ritual. With this method, he was not afraid of suffering any backlash from entering a place where so many powerful consciousnesses were converging.

This ritual enabled him to share his perception with the Bleak Gate in a limited manner; he would not be able to see as much if he were directly using his consciousness, but at least he would be protected.

The ritual was costly, but Noctis could draw upon the endless vitality inside of Sheba, and power through it, and before long, a thin strand of his perception pulsed out of the Bleak Gate.

At first, Noctis could not detect the trace of any of the consciousness from the other regions of Death, and he was beginning to believe that whatever happened here had been resolved and Rowan’s powerful soul had been split piecemeal across various regions of Death.

But it did not take long for him to see the one glaring abnormality inside this realm. It was the living and breathing representation of life, nonchalantly standing inside the realm of Death, eyes closed as if he were meditating.

Noctis became speechless. ‘This… why does everything I plan concerning this man always go the opposite direction? It is almost as if the act of me plotting against him, even though I have no hostile thoughts, draws karmic bad luck, and nothing ever goes my way. What kind of being is he, and do I have to worship him as a subordinate?’

Noctis knew that time ran faster around the various regions of Death, and there were rumors that in the central core of this realm, it ran millions of times faster. He watched Rowan for millions of years, many thoughts passing through his head.

Noctis realized that this man did not seem like someone without a plan. Rowan was far too calm for someone who had entered the realm of Death for the first time, and Noctis wanted to see what else this man had to offer. Surely it could not be more shocking.

“I see you.”

These words were the only warning Noctis had that something had changed. Afraid that he had been detected by Rowan, Noctis’s senses flared open, and then he sensed the entity that should not be known, and the knowledge that Rowan’s presence had summoned such a thing drove him mad a moment before his consciousness was exterminated.

The backlash from seeing the true presence of an entity whose powers were equal to those of a Primordial reached Noctis’s true body, and his head exploded, followed shortly by his entire body, leaving his tattoos standing in the air.

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It took a while for Noctis to awaken. His tattoos were his covenant with Death, and so it was impossible for him to die, even if his soul were extinguished. His tattoos would first draw upon the life energy of everyone he had killed to resurrect him, and if those life energies were exhausted, they would pull directly from the Bleak Gate. Such an act would place Noctis in debt with the gate, and he would lose more of himself to it.

With enough debt that could not be repaid, Noctis would become one of the full-blood crows of Death, his Destiny forever to be an extension of the power of Death.

He woke up to see that his environment had changed; he sensed that he was still inside his castle, but everything around him was different.

He was inside a wooden hut that was built upon a star.

There was confusion in his heart because, for a moment, he believed he had been sent into the past, because there was so much that was familiar that was present here.

The first was the air, which was filled with the profound energy that was present in the beginning. It was this energy that ensured all life in Reality would be immortal and flourish.

In the beginning, they had not given this energy a name. Why would they bother doing something like that? Everything was given to them freely by Eosah, and offering a name to her gift was like claiming an inheritance over that gift.

Besides, they did not know the significance of this energy. It had been with them from the moment of their birth and was considered to be a regular part of life. If only they knew how fiercely a power like this was sought for in the darkness outside of Reality, and the many hungry eyes that searched for it.

Noctis took several deep breaths as if he were trying to remember all the flavors of the past. However, it did not take him a couple of breaths to know that this air was charged with energy, but it was not the same as before.

For one, it was weaker, barely reaching five percent of what was available at the beginning of Reality. However, Noctis could detect that this energy was still growing stronger at a terrifying pace.

Yet the most crucial difference was that this energy was dead. Noctis could smell the rot inside it, and although it was powerful, there was no life within it. The voice of Eosah and her light no longer merged with this power, and Noctis believed that this energy was emerging from her corpse. So, it was no mistake that it was now dead.

A profound sense of loss filled his heart, and he opened his eyes, and behind that sadness was an eternal rage that wanted to drag everything down with his mother. The helplessness of seeing everything you know and love perish under the gaze of deceitful gods made his tattoos flare to life, and then he perceived the hut.

It was a normal hut, humble yet profound, a testament to the ingenuity that rose from a raw and untamed world filled which was filled with the power of endless possibilities.

The hut was built from what the earth gave freely: rough-hewn logs stripped of bark by stone and fire. Noctis could see scrapes where he and his siblings had made as they slowly shaped the wood. To put it all together were vines, but Noctis noticed that sinews were now also used to attach the logs together.

Noctis remembered that Asolom, soon to be known as Caine in the future, had postulated that sinews could be used as binding for this hut, and the thought had horrified most of them. It had been difficult to cut down the trees used for this hut, let alone hurting the innocent animals that had begun to arise from nature.

Noctis walked to the uneven walls and touched them; they were sturdy but leaned inward a bit, more by accident than design, and this formed a simple apex where smoke could escape from a firepit dug in a packed-earth floor.

He looked at the ground but saw no fire pit, only a solid wooden table surrounded by wooden chairs. His memories were intertwining with the present, and he shook his head to push old thoughts aside.

There were several windows in this hut, and the size of the hut was now bigger than before. Previously, there had been no windows, only gaps between the logs where wind and the scent of damp soil whispered through.

Noctis looked up and saw that the roof was still thatched with bundles of reeds, which usually sagged under the weight of the morning dew. He remembered how Sheba used to worry that it would collapse on their heads at night.

This had not been just a shelter for them, but a covenant—it was the beginning of all things built, the first echo of civilization, and it was supposed to be the start of something better, but it had been the birth of their ambition.

Memories poured into his mind. This place had meant many things to him, but it had been special to Sheba. Upon seeing this hut, Noctis realized that Sheba had finally found home and was no longer running.

“How long was I out?”

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