A glitching veil of mories covers half of my vision.
I’m still completely conscious of the outside, able to move, and channel primordial fire into my wounds to heal myself.
However, half of my mind is being invaded with mories from the Lower Realm in the patterns that only happen when I kill a target, and my true core’s ability, morphed by absorption, can devour their mories tied to their soul.
The overwhelming warmth and pure energy of the galaxy full of dense, high-quality ether is the first thing I see.
It’s even more overwhelming than the visions I gained from the outer guards and first bloods. They may have been draining pockets of celestial energy and ether leftover, attracted to stars; but what I’m seeing now makes it feel like the Lower Realm has nearly as much energy density as the Primordial Garden.
It’s incredible.
Instead of energy being trapped within solar system orbits, there are thick strands of bright white light that tether the entire galaxy together.
They are filled with countless high-quality ether commands, and I recognize almost every single one of the glyphs.
It’s entirely made up of the Originators’ language, the one commonly found on the many artifacts on the human world I ca from; a small select few Origin Worlds, and so of the carvings within the Ravine.
However, the gastructures that look like highways flash brightly as countless lifeforms flow through them, traveling to and from destinations all over the Lower Realm.
These are mories from billions of years ago. It’s hard to tell if they are so scattered and hard to see because Marcellus has forgotten these parts of his life from long ago, or if it has to do with the nature of their transfer.
A few extre monts in ti pass, mostly made of battles between Marcellus and other strong fighters of the ti.
They look like they were perford in so kind of safe environnt, an arena of sorts, made of an extrely massive ether command structure. A high percent of the races I watch him duel are no longer alive in the current state of the Lower Realm. A few have so surviving mbers in the Outer Settlents.
Almost every one of them wielded Primordial Aura of their own back in this era, and many of the other races did not fear or look down on Demons like they do today. Marcellus was challenged as an equal in most of these duels.
Yet, feeling his emotions through his own mories and point of view, this Demon hated every one of them. He hated the trust everyone put in the pathways that connected the galaxy. He hated that the weaker races were allowed to use up resources even when it would have been more efficient for the other anomalies of the ti period to be nurtured instead.
In the back of his mind, there is a plan brewing, and a constant set of orders being followed out from soone. The only voice of authority he will truly ever follow.
Just as I try to dig deep and follow this path of thought deeper into his mories, they crackle and disappear from half my vision.
At the sa ti, I thrust myself upward to block another one of his incoming demonic crescents of darkness.
The Demon yells, "No matter what you try, it is futile. You are still trying to defeat within the bounds of the system. With such a small perspective, I will always win. This is what was ant to happen all along. Yes! I just needed the extra push, the final anomalies of this system to allow to transcend!"
A horrific shockwave echoes through the do as I block his next wave of demonic essence, and destroy millions of copied blades of crimson fire.
His words sound like the raves of a mad lunatic. They are no different than many of the past demons I’ve pushed to the edge of sanity in their battles.
However, when I see the proof of what this Demon is doing before my eyes, his words really are not lies.
Marcellus has fully embraced chaos, and let his mind, body, and soul be taken over by his Advanced Primordial Aura. Upon his death, his will did not waver, and he beca too strong for the system to register the kill.
If I let him win, his power will only grow, and what he’s saying will actually co true...
I grit my teeth, watching Maria block a demonic slash across the do, and when she’s out of imdiate danger, I ping her the mories I just witnessed.
Our flight around the massive, growing aura of chaotic energy does not slow down at all.
Dozens of blocked attacks go by one by one. I manage to throw two massive fiery attacks at the Demon’s core during this ti too. It burns away noticeable amounts of Demonic Essence, but I can tell that at this rate, my current thods aren’t going to be enough.
He still has too much Demonic Essence left, protecting that artifact in his chest.
"We need to get closer! It’s ti to take so risks before its too late!" I yell through my link with Maria, and send a wave of fire at the Demon.
It is at the detrint of one of his slashes breaking through my crimson sword shadow armor and obliterating a portion of my origin body. However, the flashing white light in his chest is continuing to grow faster. In a matter of seconds, it’s going to be pulsing so fast that I don’t even know if I’ll be able to perceive it any longer.
As I’m sent flying backward from the injury, so is Marcellus, as my attack was unexpected.
It allows for Maria to land two solid hits of her own, one that cuts just as deep as my surprise hit near his core, and another that skims his leg and chops off a foot, shattering it to ice.
The clawed foot grows back almost instantly, but the murderous screech that cos out when he realizes how close we got to touching the artifact in his chest is invigorating.
I allow Maria to keep him busy for a mont while I pour Primordial Fire into the wound in my side and up my neck; but the mont it floods in, I feel the demonic aura glitching again.
More mories start to pour in, and in the back of my mind, I watch over a million level-up notifications pour in.
I try to count them quickly, but the number keeps changing.
It moves up and down by hundreds of thousands. Even the stats in my status fluctuate as they try to register if I have completed a kill or not.
I push the strange status screens out of my mind, and let my attention focus on the mories while I’m still attached to them.
Marcellus is sowhere else in the galaxy.
Usually, in these past mories, I can roughly tell where the holder is based on the stars nearby and in relation to other mories of the ti period, or mirror them to my real-ti spectate feeds in the Lower Realm.
Yet, this one is different.
It’s as though he’s standing right in the center of the galaxy, far past the Origin Worlds, in an area of space that no one has ever mapped out for .
In my mind, there was nothing but a blank mystery region here, what many referred to as the Source.
Yet now I’m seeing Marcellus stare down at an unfathomably large white orb. At so angles, it looks like a mirror, showing the Demon staring right back. At other angles, it looks rainbow and glossy, and at so, it completely disappears, like a black hole of nothingness.
The longer he looks at it, the more strange it becos.
There are no glyphs or geotrical structures that hold it together. It just exists here.
Countless invisible soul ties pour off of it and stretch out in all directions into the galaxy.
I can’t tell if it’s made of ether, or if it is so kind of illusion made by Advanced Primordial Aura, or a giant pool of Source Resin. It could very well be all three.
It gives off no energy readings, so it is impossible to tell.
I stare into the void of the Source with Marcellus and allow the mory to play in real ti.
My concentration is only broken once I see soone else appear in the reflection of the Source behind Marcellus’ back.
It is another Demon, and he is with a dragon. The sa dragon that is soul bound to , and linked to the seal right above the do of the central domain.
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Author’s Note:
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