The Internal Tribulation of the Primordials could take as long as a single day or a trillion years, but all of that ti would only happen inside their ntal space, in the outside world, barely a few seconds would pass, and so it was easy to determine how many Primordial Candidate had succeeded in their first try... it was all of them!
Perhaps, Origin itself recognized that its end was coming and so it opened its gates wide open so the Primordials could easily learn from it...
Perhaps it was the knowledge that the greatest war that would ever be fought, from the beginning of existence until its end was about to begin, and if they were not Primordials, they could not stand at the front of the line...
Perhaps it was the love they had gained for the ten thousand Origin Realms that they knew they had to protect because there was nothing else out there. They had looked out into Limbo and seen nothing but despair and madness, and their only ho, the only salvation they could have, was defending their heavens and their earth...
There could be so many reasons why none of the fourth Primordials had faltered and conquered their Internal Tribulation, but they did, and the laughter of Eos could be heard, touching the hearts of all life inside the Origin Realm.
But this was just the beginning.
The next was the Lightning Tribulation, and although most of the lifeforms inside the Origin Realm could not see it, they could feel it.
That feeling was like a thrum that began not in the heavens or the earth, but sowhere deeper, the very marrow of existence itself.
It was the voice of Eos, and it ca as a low, resonant frequency that vibrated through the bones of every living thing.
In the lowliest mortal worlds, mortals looked up from their fields, feeling a warmth in their chests they could not na.
In the middle realms, lesser immortals watched their most intricate spells unravel from sheer irrelevance as if the cosmic arithtic had found a larger sum to calculate.
The birth of Primordials shifted Existence in ways that could not be understood by lesser immortals, and they were feeling how that would play out.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the Lightning Tribulation was over, and in the high heavens, the established Primordials paused.
Telmus, Eva, Thenos, Sheba... so of them had been slumbering in the void between breaths and opened their eyes.
Those who tended the gardens of causality set down their tools. Those who had forgotten they once were candidates felt a phantom ache in long-dormant
cores.
They knew what this was and rembered what it was like to grasp their Origin for the first ti; it was an experience that could not be told, it could only be felt.
(R)
Every ti a Primordial was born, the Origin Land of Eos opened for a brief mont and connected to the Origin Realms.
However, because of the number of Primordials that were born on this day, the gate of the Origin Land was opened for an extended amount of ti, and its Aura that was as fleeting as light yet heavier than a mountain washed over the Origin Realms, and countless knees fell to the earth.
The Light of the Origin Land fell on a massive mountain called the Mountain of Transcendence inside the Pri Axis, and the stone of the eternal mountain began to glow with heat, revealing veins of molten possibilities spreading like roots.
Six hundred and forty-eight figures erged from the light.
After experiencing ascension, their Origin bodies were still being created, and so they resembled silhouettes against a cosmic background, because their existence was a contradiction; every Primordial had an infinite size yet still wore the shape of n.
Their forms shifted, a mont they were beings of impossible geotry, then they took a mortal shape.
Only the established Primordials could look at them at the mont, as an Old One would go insane due to the fact that the appearances of the new Primordials were shifting so fast that their perception could not adjust to it, and as the light of the Origin Land vanished, the shapes of the Primordials settled into shapes that were both ancient and newborn.
Depending on their concept, one wore the skin of a thousand extinct stars, another bled constellations from palms that had not yet learned to close.
Another newly born Primordial wept, and her tears beca the first freshwater springs of a realm that had known only salt.
Beside her, a Primordial was laughing, and his laughter rewrote the laws of probability in seventeen neighboring dinsions.
They were young and terrified, triumphant and hungry... they had reached for the stars and discovered they beca the universe that held the stars. Then, as they fully stepped into the Pri Axis, massive shockwaves erupted from their bodies, and the entirety of the central Origin Realm shook. This shockwave traveled beyond the Pri Axis and reached all ten thousand Origin Realms, and in this instant, every mountain in every realm shivered. Every abyss deepened by a handspan. Every horizon pushed forward, as if reality itself was expanding its lungs to breathe the new air.
In every realm, golden rain began to fall as the condensed essence of so many new Primordials was added to the foundations of the Origin Realms.
These were drops of pure potential that sizzled where they touched the ground, each one blooming into montary flowers of new physics before dissolving.
In desolate wastelands, the rain carved rivers of rcury. In dead stars, their cores ignited with violet fire. In the forgotten spaces between realities, where nothing had ever lived, sothing stirred... even the dinsions were singing. Each realm had its own voice, a different key, a different tempo, and they sang to the Primordials.
Six hundred and forty-eight lodies. Six hundred and forty-eight distinct signatures, each one a Primordial Candidate completing their final
tamorphosis.
And yet the song was one.
Such massive changes were intruding on the realms and domains of the established Primordials, but none of them made any move to restrict these changes, because none of them could.
At the mont, the light of Eos was touching all the newly born Primordials, and for this mont-this single, trembling heartbeat-the ten thousand Origin
Realms belonged to the newborns.
After a while, the shaking of the realms stopped, and there was silence.
Six hundred and forty-eight Primordials stood upon the peak before them stretched the Origin Realms.
Many of them were asking various questions in their minds. What would they build? What would they break? What stories would they beco?
Behind them, the mountain cooled, and they turned and bowed towards the Central Pivot. As Primordials, they could now see the body of Eos, sitting on a
throne of stone, and it was he they bowed to.
"Welco, my children," his voice entered their hearts, "Today you beco Primordials, and all realms rejoice at your birth."
After saying this, the doors of the Primordial Hall were opened, and within
them were sixty thrones, and now, more thrones were being rapidly added to the hall until there were 708 thrones.
Reviews
All reviews (0)