The Primordial Record
chapter-559

Rowan saw four pillars, vast and covered with intricate runes that staggered the imagination, they seemed to rise up forever, and as the etching grew, the need for Mental Power rose alongside it, but he endured and gave it more.

He did not care about the cost it would incur, greater than the power this Omnipotent Aspect would give him, was the secrets that it could reveal. Secrets that could not be found anywhere else, or were buried so deeply the price he would pay to dig them up could be impossible for him to pay.

The Spirit Matrix gate was a link to the past, and he had an inkling about what was about to be revealed next.

He disregarded his growing body, allocating more mental resources towards the Spirit Matrix Gate, and as the etching grew, the anticipation in his heart also increased.

What came next was a jumbled mess of an image that was incredibly distorted, as if he was looking at a picture while he was blindfolded.

Rowan quickly realized that what he was seeing was so distant in history and contained so much power that if he ever wanted to understand a fragment of what had happened in that period, then he must be willing to make sacrifices.

His pillars of consciousness were growing, increasing to seventy. Two more gods had fallen, and Rowan thanked Eva inside his heart.

Decisively, he began allocating more mental power to the Spirit Matrix Gate, and his body became racked with pain, as controlling the flow of power to his physique multiplied in its difficulty, but he endured, his will was indestructible, carried by an unearthly need to know the truth… to finally see the true face of his enemy.

The effect of his sacrifice was apparent enough as the 'image' grew clearer and the etchings digging their way through the Spirit Matrix Gate grew deeper.

Rowan cocked his massive head to the side, he was now half a million miles tall, and yet every motion from his body was still graceful and carried a quickness that a being of this size should never boast of having.

His attributes had long broken past a billion points each and he no longer placed any fate in these numbers, at a certain level of strength, anything more became meaningless.

Rowan had made this body movement because he was surprised at what he saw; the so-called pillars were the four legs of a table. A normal wooden table by all indications.

The top of the table was covered in many indistinct objects, but something was clear, there was a body sprawled on the table, and his back was pierced with weapons of various shapes and sizes pinning him to the table.

The details on this body were unclear, even the weapons used in stabbing him through the back were indistinct. He needed to understand, and with a growing madness, Rowan decisively left only a single consciousness pillar to the task of regulating his body, placing his faith in his sheer grit and resilience to hold on where everything else would fail.

He pushed all this mental power into the Spirit Matrix Gate, and the gate shook more strongly as cracks began to appear on it.

If Rowan remembered correctly, the true purpose of this Spirit Matrix Gate was to draw from your memory and make of it a barrier towards your ascension, the deeper it drew from you, the harder it was for the individual to be able to break through the gate and awaken their Spirit Matrix.

Yet no one had ever imagined what could happen to the gate when it came into contact with memories of the likes of Rowan.

This truth was revealed soon enough.

Even this powerful gate was beginning to break apart with the weight of Rowan's memory, for the first time in all of creation, the Spirit Matrix Gate had come across a memory it could not bear!

Rowan screamed out in rage, "Don't you fucking dare collapse before I see my past! I thought you were supposed to be Omnipotent?"

He charged forward and with massive hands the size of a hundred worlds and he seized the gate, he did not seek to break it like everyone else in history, he was doing the opposite, he was holding it together!

The gate let out a long groan that resembled pain, but Rowan's attention was fixed on the etchings that were being uncovered in the collapsing gate.

"Hold on… hold on…" Rowan was not just using his will to hold onto the gate. His Telekinetic powers that were now so vast that it could shatter entire galaxies if he wanted was straining to hold the Spirit Matrix Gate together.

It was working, barely.

The table had become clearer and Rowan saw that it was filled with what he would call maps, showing vast terrains as if it was a map of the multiverse, there were also cups and jugs on the table, but they had been spilled haphazardly around as if a massive quarrel had just taken place.

There were six seats in this place, and unlike every elaborate throne he had ever seen, these ones were incredibly simple, resembling wooden chairs covered in fur.

The body on the table was now clearer, this figure was wearing a simple robe made from fur, and his face was alien, he had four eyes that resembled gems and were shaped like cubes, and below his nostrils was not a mouth but many tentacles like those from an octopus.

The weapon sticking out from his back was vague, but their colors made Rowan realize what they were, and what they might represent.

The Spirit Matrix Gate was at its limits and began to collapse with a loud sound, Rowan's great eyes were opened, and was capturing every single detail that he could from it, and his diligence paid off as he finally saw the roots of his father.

It came from a single drop of blood falling from the figure pinned to the table. The blood drop casting a reflection which carried the haunting shadowy figure of his father, who was hiding inside a cup.

A tiny TeaCup.

"So, this is the root of my ability to create reflections." Rowan sighed in contemplation.

To be clear, his great and terrible father was nothing but a reflection in a single drop of blood! He would have scoffed at the background of his enemy if he did not comprehend that the weapons stabbing the backs of this figure came from Primordials!

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