The Primordial Record novel Chapter 1786

Chapter 1786: The Final Argument

Unlike the fall of Primordial Soul, the death of Primordial Chaos would not go unnoticed.

Killing Chaos inside Oblivion would delay the mental feedback from the fall of a Primordial, but it would not last. Before long, the children of Chaos that were left and the Primordials would sense the loss of Eldrithor. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Killing a Primordial on the Altar of Unmaking drew out every single shred of their Will and Intent all around Reality and forced them onto the altar. This was the unique and powerful inheritance of Primordial Soul that Rowan had seized.

In fact, for a normal immortal, the fallout from the death of Primordial Chaos should be instantaneous, but Rowan controlled many higher-level concepts, and his perception was incredibly fast, making a moment stretch for as long as he wanted.

But he did not have forever to deal with what was to come, so it was a good thing that he already had many pieces already moving across the board.

His consciousness already reached out for Eva to prepare the road for him. It was time for him to enter the Arena; already, he could sense the call.

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For Eva, the victory in the Monolith of Finality against Primordial Light was not an end. It was a beginning. A terrible, glorious, and necessary beginning.

The surface of the cold, perfect light of the Primordial was broken, its authority shattered not by force, but by a truth it could not comprehend. But Eva, the New Light, knew that broken things could still be sharp.

A cornered, wounded principle could be more dangerous than a whole one. The Old Light would not fade gracefully into irrelevance; it would fester, it would plot, it would seek to re-impose its sterile order through any means necessary. What made it worse was that, in some ways, this victory came through the permission of Primordial Light, and his revenge was not far.

However, the war of words was over. The war of existence was about to begin.

Eva did not return to a heaven at peace. She returned to a realm trembling on the precipice of civil war. The sky above the Celestial domains was split—one half a cold, sharp, achingly perfect cerulean, the other a vibrant, swirling web of dawn gold and rose-quartz.

The touch of Old Light went deep, and even though Eva had taken over the first layer of Light’s Origin, she could not push away the touch of Primordial Light from those who still wished to believe in him.

Below, the factions were forming. The Clockwork Choirs, angels of absolute precision, moved in flawless, silent formations, their eyes reflecting the cold logic of their master. The Dawnguard, those who had embraced Eva’s warmth, moved with passionate purpose, their wings shimmering with inner fire, their voices raised in new, chaotic hymns of becoming.

They needed a sign. Not a philosophical victory, but a demonstration of power so absolute it would shatter the will of the opposition before the first blade of light was ever drawn.

They needed a hammer. And Eva knew of only one hammer big enough to drive the lesson home to every corner of every reality.

Eva looked at heaven for a long while, taking in every single detail that she could, and then she left heaven. Her destination was not a place, but a being.

This being drifted in the silent sea between dimensions, a leviathan of stone and soul, ancient beyond the memory of stars. This was Algorth, the Living Castle. It was not built; it was grown, or perhaps born. Only Rowan knew the truth.

Her spires were mountain ranges carved into impossible, beautiful shapes. Her windows were lakes of molten silver that wept light into the void, and her heart was a throne room where the geology of a thousand dead worlds had been folded into pillars that sang with a deep, planetary hum.

Algorth, who wished to call herself Sheba, was the last of her kind; her only brethren were Noctis, who was now a Crow of Death.

This sentient architecture had witnessed the birth and death of cosmic cycles, and it was loyal to Rowan, for he was the first being that had ever made her ancient stones feel warm.

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