The Primordial Record

His soul shattered, bringing with it relentless waves of excruciating pain. A divine light emerged from Andar’s core and wrapped around Aetherius, even as the swirling orb at the staff’s top imploded into radiance that converged with the light pouring from Andar’s shattered soul.

Faster than any spell that he could ever conjure, these two radiances fused as one and blasted toward the man, who was still slowly drawing out the golden strings from the body of Revah.

This light was everything that Andar had been and was to be; it was the culmination of what was supposed to become the greatest Magus who ever stepped foot upon Reality, and the power it released was greater than any Old One could ever unleash.

This man, this entity, slowly turned towards the light blasting towards him, and he sighed.

Two frozen hands behind his back detached themselves and exploded, and Reality became frozen. The light that should have touched him in a mere moment slowed down an inch away from his skin but did not stop moving, although crossing that inch seemed to have become a journey of a million miles.

The man spared a glance at Andar before looking away while muttering to himself,

“Incredible work… The things he was able to do with the soul.”

Andar did not know if he was referring to his soul or what he was extracting from Revah; he did not much care at this point; all he knew was that his gamble had succeeded; although his final light was frozen, it could not be stopped, and it would surely disrupt the attempts of this being from success.

Slowly but surely, the light touched the man’s skin on the face near his ears, and a spot of darkness began to grow around the area as if it were being charred by a flaming torch.

The skin around that spot began to bubble before blackening and collapsing to ash. Before long, half of the man’s face had crumbled, exposing blackening bones underneath, yet he never stopped pulling the golden strings out of Revah’s body, even when one of his eyes exploded from its socket.

Andar’s consciousness was fading; he had lost almost eighty percent of all he could give, but it seemed as if he was not causing enough damage. But finally, the man shivered, and he halted his act of drawing out the strings, and then he spoke,

“You show great promise, child. There is so much promise that I am willing to concede that the act of your creation supersedes my own. Yet your actions are not that of a mage. You should know that the entity you are dying for knows of my presence and did nothing to stop you. Why die for someone who could easily throw away your life.”

Andar did not reply; he did not think he had the energy to do so. He could only increase the last of his Light, making it burn brighter and causing the man to stumble. One of his hands released the golden string, and he was left holding on with only one hand.

Andar was not a fool. Rowan’s previous plans about the Magus Supreme World were drastic, but they should never have reached this point if this was not of his will.

Such a drastic change in plans, where a Primordial Essence of such significant volume had to flood Reality, was not a simple change. It meant that Rowan must have realized that the Supreme Magus was not what they had expected, necessitating such a drastic measure.

He had not informed Andar of this change, nor had he tried to stop him when he plunged deep into the core of the realm, even when he knew that Andar could not face what was coming. Rowan would not do so because he had no choice.

This was war, and it was Andar’s choice choice to be here. And if he were able to do so, he would be laughing because he was happy.

It was a rare thing in this Era for the death of a person to mean something, and what was the possibility that in his life, he would reach a position where he could strike a Primordial Entity and watch them stumble?

Although his father may not have been perfect, Andar would give up his life for him a thousand times over.

With a scream from the depths of his soul, Andar detonated everything, and this man…

No, not a man.

This creature…

This Primordial Beast… stumbled, and the last hand holding the golden string loosened.

A cry of rage erupted in the distance, and Reality shuddered; a loud booming sound as if all of creation had shattered echoed through this space, and the final embers of Andar’s soul fell back into his body. He collapsed to the ground, a moment away from death.

Andar struggled to open his eyes. He was so weak that his perception could not leave his body. His gaze searched for Revah’s body, and he saw that she had collapsed into ash, and there was no sign of the golden strings.

He chuckled weakly in relief, and life began to leave his body rapidly. If not for the remnants of Aetherius propping him up, he would have collapsed to his face.

Andar smiled as his life force was extinguished.

“LOOK AT ME CHILD.”

He should be dead, but this voice dragged him away from death, and his head jerked upward to see the Primordial Beast walk up to him; half his face and the upper part of his right shoulder and chest were burnt, showing red wriggling muscles underneath, but on the other half of his face that was free from damage appeared serene, there was no sign of pain or anger that Andar had ruined his plans.

The Primordial Beast stopped a few feet away from Andar, and he could smell the burning flesh; its scent was almost like jasmine, a strange thought, but Andar gave his dying mind every benefit to do whatever it wanted,

“No child, you are not going to die, not for a very long time. The magic of the Primordial Beasts is primal in nature, and we understand death more than anyone. You shall endure Andar as you are, and you shall see the end of all things. This is my gift and my curse.”

The Primordial Beast slowly brought his hands to Andar’s face as if he was about to caress it when he stumbled forward, and he looked down to see a golden fist sticking out of his chest,

“Fascinating, you should not be here; it is impossible,” he said, and he shook again as another golden fist erupted beside the first one. With awful strength, the fist parted to the side, and the Primordial Beast was torn in two with so much force that both halves of his body slammed against the walls of the cave, and they burst through it, flying into the distance, trailing blood and pieces of flesh.

The one responsible for this was a man whose red eyes and hair blazed with intense fury that could burn all of creation, and his voice shattered the space around him,

“Don’t you fucking touch my son!”

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