The Primordial Record

The space of a material universe was not made for carrying the weight of higher dimensional immortals, and the space of Vyraak Dominion had lasted so long in the presence of so many higher dimensional immortals because of the great investment of the Vyraak Dominion in strengthening their universe to hold so many God Kings and lesser immortals, an average universe may hold a dozen God Kings, Vyraak Dominion held millions.

Although they had not brazenly conquered other universes to enrich their own, they had been the dominant force in this area for many Minor Eras, and other universes were basically subservient to them, making it easier for them to harvest the remnants of those universe's Wills when their lifespan came to an end, enriching the Vyraak Dominion.

Vyraak had a dream, one that he shared with the excited universe. He was going to make his universe the first lower realm to ascend to the higher realms. He would not be leaving his home behind, he would be taking it with him. Her glory was going to be one that would be seen by all of existence, and the Vyraak Dominion would be the one place where true majesty was born. Ah, that dream had been glorious. The thought of it was an endless source of motivation to him, but now…
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All of their glory was lost; his dreams were dust, yet they could shine one last time on the body of Vyraak. He could carry them on his body, he could show all of reality what could have been. In his heart, he whispered, 'Come to me…'

The bones of the dragon were crammed full of every foundational element of the Universe, reinforcing it a thousand times over. New flesh covered his body made from the stars and the earth, of everything that once gave his universe life, and he began to shine with all the colors that his universe had once held. A light that almost equaled what was arising from the body of the growing Seraphim.

All of these changes in the dragon brought with it a massive influx of Memories from his entire universe, so many that it almost drowned his mind, and for a moment, he let himself sink into one of them.

Vyraak opened his eyes, and he was standing on a field of flowers, watching the most beautiful sunset he had ever seen; this was the day he was to become a god. On the first day that he entered the road of cultivation, it had been before sunset, just like this one.

Pushing aside all traditions about the path of power, Vyraak, transforming from a mortal to a god, took less time than anyone could have ever imagined when the time he used for cultivating his powers was less than a decade.

He stood before the setting sun, a god at the age of sixteen. He began cultivating when he was six years old using ancient parchments he found in the river, containing incomplete information about the path of godhood. Most of its contents were rubbish, but certain parts of it were enough for him to find Aether for the first time and draw it into his body. It was that first feeling of power and change, which was almost orgasmic in its intensity, that convinced Vyraak that he would be walking this path all his life.

With such a shaky foundation derived from an incomplete manuscript, he should have died a thousand times over on his way to immortality, but the world itself loved him. Every danger he faced became an opportunity, every pitfall a source of upliftment, and his broken foundations became the pillars that built up his strength, in time his enemies could only watch him grow so quickly that they were left far behind in his dust, and his growth never slowed, never stopped, even when he journeyed into the stars to become a greater god.

He met many friends, found lovers, and had children, but his greatest love remained the world that had nurtured and guided him from his birth, and when he left for the stars, this love was transferred to everything that his eyes could see, for his streak of luck never ended even after he left the world of his birth. Every time he touched Aether, he was reminded of this love.

For so long, so many people tried to find the source of his progress and define the particular ingredient that made him great. He was never shy to reveal the truth, and yet few believed him; they could not see that the world around them was alive in a way that they could never imagine.

When Vyraak became a God Emperor and stepped outside his universe for the first time, he heard her voice, like that whisper of a lover at the dawn of the morning when they were entangled in each other's arms, and he knew that this was the source of his love. His muse, his inspiration, and Vyraak, a great God Emperor at the tender age of a thousand years old, wept.

Now, he wore nothing but her corpse. His first and only love. Vyraak roared, his size now bigger than the universe that birthed him.

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Rowan's dimensional soul had not reached the Vyraak Dominion, but through the eyes of his Sovereign, he could hear and see everything that was transpiring, and his interest was greatly peaked.

Of course, Rowan knew of great geniuses that were out in reality, but he did not understand how Vyraak had been able to convince the Will of a Universe to pull away from the protection of the Great Desert.

Perhaps if this had happened after he took out Nemesis from the Great Desert and created a massive hole in that dimension, then he would have thought that this might be the reason why this universe Will would have done such a thing, but that was not the case, whatever had happened had taken place many Minor Eras ago before he was born.

This was an extremely strange occurrence, and if possible he wanted to read Vyraak's soul and understand how everything came to be.

Although he was interested in the journey of this immortal, what Rowan really focused on was the Celestial, Seraphim.

This was to be the next evolution after gaining a Cherubim but Rowan was still extremely far from that point. He did not forget how many million years of evolution and resonance allowed him to create seven Cherubims, and to create a single Seraphim, he would need 9,999 Cherubims!

With the resources he had on hand, Rowan knew that he barely had four percent of the requirement to create a Seraphim, and that was why this venture to gain as many universes as he could from the lower realm was extremely important. This would be necessary for his rise and it would be a venture that was worth the sacrifice.

A single Seraphim, despite being equivalent to a sixth-dimensional immortal, was holding his own against an eighth-dimensional immortal, and the eventual result of their battle was unknown. If Rowan could start producing Seraphim, did it mean that he would gain the power of an eighth-dimensional immortal among his children?

Even as he was deliberating on all of this, a major part of his attention was focused on the grand spell array that he was creating.

Watching the events from afar and collecting the multiple souls of each Sovereign that were being killed by the actions of Vyraak, Rowan knew that he had to come up with a plan before reaching his destination because, unlike Thenos who had fought him with an empty tank, Vyraak had access to plentiful Essence and he had been able to create Aetherium during his time as a seventh dimensional immortal, this meant that he would be hitting much harder and faster, and he would be able to utilize all the powers and abilities that made eighth-dimensional immortals to be considered the most dangerous beings under Primordials, also with the protection of his Tree of Desire bloodline gone, and without fully activating the power of his Serathis bloodline, he would not be able to match the abilities of Vyraak who was able to twist Fate and Destiny.

The only reason Diane had survived for so long before the might of Vyraak was that she was not his main target and all the Sovereigns who became her shield, using their lives to extend her own. Yet this would not last. Reaching forward with Astrolabe, Rowan brought her to his side.