The Primordial Record

Chapter 1653: The Folded Oracles

The Obsidian Abyss was no longer suffocating for Rowan, except for the Intent of Primordial Chaos clustered deep in the mire of this endless blackness. Still, Rowan was not concerned that he would be discovered by the Primordial, as he had observed that Chaos was like a landlord who had never visited the land he owned.

Rowan was also slowly coming to the realization that the only reason he was able to delve so deeply into Reality was tied to being a ‘Reality’ himself, and because Eosah was a willing teacher.

Every impactation of her wisdom was done without holding anything back from him, and he was smoothly gaining the Origin of Space more rapidly than he had believed possible.

Even now, if he leaves the void, he would slowly be able to comprehend the deeper layers with what he had gained, but that should take him a couple of billion years.

The only problem he had was that he did not have the entire Supreme Era to learn; he barely had two decades left before his battle with Primordial Demon, and less than two hundred thousand years before the last of Eosah’s Essence was exhausted.

Rowan would have to learn quickly, and he had to learn well; he could not hesitate. Every advantage he had was to be seized, and he would have to hold the line long enough for those who could assist him to become strong enough.

“So many things to do, and I never get enough time to do them.”

Rowan sped up his movement, the Obsidian Abyss not holding him back at all. He reached the end of it, where he found a massive barrier that appeared to be made of red metal.

Touching the barrier, Rowan felt a sharp spike of coldness even greater than what he had experienced inside the Obsidian Abyss. Something touched his mind as if someone had just dug their fingers into his brain through his eyes, and the entire barrier, whose length was beyond infinity, wrapped around his body, and he was transported to the third layer of the void.

After passing through the Azure Empyrean and the Obsidian Abyss, Rowan’s understanding of the void deepened. He was no longer held back by the mysterious nature of this space, and this was the only reason he was able to understand what he was seeing in a short amount of time.

If he had been dropped into this place from the start, then it was unknown how many billions of years his mind would have grown to the level where he could understand them.

At first, everything he could observe was pure chaos, but his mind was robust enough to endure the ravages of a dead Reality, and in that madness, he heard her voice. Rowan smiled, and he did not shy away from the madness but embraced it, and her voice became clearer.

It was confusing at first, but soon, Rowan’s eyes lit up because he was becoming more familiar with the words. They reminded him almost of mathematics, and he nearly laughed aloud when he realized that the entirety of the third layer of the void was a living equation.

“Well, in this case, it is a dead equation, but one that is too stubborn to quit, endlessly providing aid for all of Reality despite not having every reason not to.”

” My Fractal Weave. The place where my imagination was born.”

Eosah’s voice had lost the last of its robot-like quality, and what resounded in Rowan’s mind was a clean voice with an unmatched majesty.

“So, this is the Fractal Weave.”

Spread around him for countless light years was a realm where the void folds, spirals, and repeats in infinite recursion. This was a realm where geometry breathes and time is a shattered mirror reflecting endless possibilities.

Rowan spent an eternity observing this place, countless inspirations filling his mind and bolstering his understanding of Reality. If the Azure Empyrean was the skin, the Obsidian Abyss the blood, then the Fractal Weave was the muscles and tendons.

Knowledge poured into his mind, but Rowan had already grown, and he was no longer content to stand still and receive them; instead, he began to walk forward. His intentions were to reach the deepest layer of the void more quickly and gain the Origin of Space.

The first step he took shattered the realm around him, and the information that bombarded his consciousness increased exponentially.

Landscapes around Rowan became recursive. Big mountains twisted into smaller mountains, which twisted again, repeating endlessly like a divine engraving.

Rivers fork into tributaries that fork again, each branching part leading to a slightly altered version of itself. It was as if every step he took was an invitation for the Fractal Weave to pour into his mind with ever-increasing intensity.

Rowan’s dimensional flesh lit up, as the tattoos of the sky whales of creation began to move across his skin, and the countless trillions of Hollow Titans in his blood began to chant. The foundation he had built was aiding his ascension and assimilation, and Rowan’s steps became faster, until he was almost jogging.

A new phenomenon that almost made him halt his movements drew his attention as an echo of himself appeared beside him. This Reflection was almost exactly like him, but there were slight differences in their demeanor.

Rowan had no spare consciousness power to thoroughly examine this echo when others began to appear, and before long, billions of his echoes were moving alongside him like an army.

He noticed that some of the echoes appeared more tangible while others resembled illusions. What drew his attention was that some of them were older and others were younger; however, Rowan was drawn to the echoes of himself that were old.

Having lived through many incarnations, Rowan had chosen to grow old in some of them, but looking back through his memories, he could see that he did not usually allow himself to age.

This was not a conscious decision; it was as if a part of himself had always shirked away from the ravages of time. Was this a moral flaw? Maybe, but if it were, he would correct it.

The echo beside him suddenly reached out to him, and Rowan, almost without thinking, grabbed the face of the echo and crushed its head with a single squeeze.

Rowan had detected a faint sense of hunger from that echo that was almost impossible to detect. Anyone else might have missed it, but Rowan could recognize that hunger, and he instinctively knew that if he allowed that echo to touch him, then it would absorb who he was, and the echo would become him.

This was the deepest layer of Reality, and Rowan was touching concepts that would make the knowledge of gods and Titans resemble the doddling of a baby. The dangers he was facing were unprecedented, and the ease with which he could fail was ridiculous.

All these while, the echoes had been running beside him in companionable silence, but at the death of one of their number, a loud, spine-tingling shriek erupted from their throats, and they began to surround Rowan.

Eosah’s voice resounded in his head,

“The folded Oracles are my flesh giving life. Now dead, they come for your light.”

Rowan stumbled; these words did not appear to be from someone who was dead.

“Run.”

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