Chapter 1762: Choice
"Ascension."
"Order."
"Ruin."
"Chaos."
"..."
Five pillars of light pierced the heavens, converging into a colossal orb. Its power felt boundless. Each pulse seemed to reverberate through reality.
Ascension. Order. Ruin. Chaos. Silence.
The origins of origins. The foundations of creation. Beneath their power, the world stilled. Everything in existence froze. A shudder rippled through countless hearts. Many failed to fathom what was coming. Yet their existence felt it. Their souls felt it. The universe held its breath.
Then the orb erupted into a beam of light.
Atticus found his vision swallowed by annihilation. The combined power of five Primordials. Yet...
He was unfazed.
Atticus exhaled. Devouring Solvath had changed the way he saw the world. Now he understood the truth. The Primordials... the origins of origins... then hadn’t come from nothingness. No...
They had come from longing. Unfathomable longing. The longing of Ruin. Of Order. Of Silence. Of Ascension. Of Chaos. Of Harmony.
Their longing had become so absolute that reality itself acknowledged them as Primordials. The origins of all.
With his ascension, Atticus’ longing had reached that same unfathomable height. He longed to burn the world and bring peace to his family.
The Spirit King’s longing had reached that same height. A longing to devour the world and bring peace to his loved ones.
The longing to burn. To devour. To harmonize. Three longings of unfathomable magnitude.
These beings... the Primordials... they were wrong about him. Terribly wrong. He was not Solvath. He was not merely the Primordial of Harmony.
He was three Primordials in one.
Atticus calmly raised an arm.
"Judgment Flame."
Crimson fire blazed before him, twisting and flickering wildly.
"Devour."
A dark orb formed beside it. Rows upon rows of gleaming white teeth stretched endlessly within.
"Harmony."
The world quaked.
From across the cosmos, every energy ever created, every Will ever born, every star, every concept ever conceived surged toward him in an endless tide.
They converged into a blazing orb of purple light between the other two truths.
The beam reached him. Atticus lowered his arm. The three orbs collided. Then the beam swallowed him.
For many moments, there was only silence. Then a ray of light pierced through the orb. Like dawn breaking through darkness, more rays followed. One. Ten. A hundred.
Until the beam shattered into countless fragments of light.
"IMPOSSIBLE!"
The Primordials blazed with shock.
"This is... three powers... H-how...? How is this possible?!"
Atticus flicked his arm aside. The combined energy rushed into his grip, taking the form of a blinding katana.
It felt nostalgic.
He had chosen the katana among countless weapons that day. Though it had become a trap... it had also marked the beginning of his story. Now, after countless years, countless deaths, and endless perseverance... he would use it to end it.
Atticus settled into a stance. The cosmos shuddered.
The Primordials’ voices rumbled. Booming. Shouting. Screaming. Demanding to know how any of this was possible. Then they fell silent. Anastasia. Avalon. Magnus. Anorah... Everyone counting on him drifted through his mind.
’Time to end this.’
His movement transcended distance. Reality failed to keep track. One moment he stood where he was. The next, he was among the seas of light.
Every swing of his blade burned. Devoured. Harmonized.
"STOP THIS MADNESS!"
"WE ARE YOUR CREATORS!"
"KILL HIM!"
The Primordials unleashed attacks. Powers. Concepts. Yet he devoured them all. They failed to follow him. They failed to comprehend him. He moved like death itself.
He devoured them.
Order. Ruin. Chaos. Silence. Until eventually... only Ascension remained.
Atticus hovered within the endless sky, staring at what remained of the Primordial Star of Ascension.
He had returned to the aged man Atticus first met. Frail, green light flickering weakly around him. His face twisted with disbelief, hatred.
"You..." His voice trembled. "You’re selfish... so selfish. Ascension is my longing. It is my purpose. You ruined it... you ruined everything. You killed my brethren. You destroyed everything I worked for! How could you do this...? How could you be so selfish?"
Atticus felt strangely empty. He had imagined this moment countless times. Finding the one responsible for killing him on Earth. He had expected rage. Hatred. Triumph. Instead...
He felt pity.
He had spent most of his life thinking about this pitiful thing? The creature now reduced to breaking down because his plans had failed? He had once thought this being was grand. Now... he was no greater than the dirt beneath Atticus’ feet.
Atticus shook his head.
’How times change.’
It changed nothing. At the end of the day, this pitiful thing had crossed him. Like everyone else foolish enough to do the same...
He would meet his blade.
Atticus slowly raised his katana.
Asmerion flinched, tears streamed down his face.
"No... no! You can’t do this! You can’t erase my longing! I won’t allow it! Growth! Ascension! I must become the ultimate existence! I MUST ASCEND!
"I am Asmerion! The Primordial of Ascension!"
"You’re pathetic."
His katana fell. Asmerion barely had time to scream before he was devoured.
Silence swallowed the world.
Atticus drew in a slow breath, the kind that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. Within him, eight distinct longings raged. They converged. Yet they also clashed, each trying to pull him toward its own path.
’I am Atticus.’
Atticus Ravenstein. Apex of humanity. God of Eldoralth. Child of Ilyshkara and Attimax. Child of Anastasia and Avalon. Child of Grace.
He was Atticus Ravenstein.
The sole Primordial of the universe.
He exhaled and opened his eyes. It was not over yet. He could feel the gazes of his mother and father below. They were both calling out to him. But, he ignored them.
Now, with the power of every Primordial, bringing back his people was easy. The problem was what came after. True peace.
He wanted true peace.
A world where he would never again have to remain on guard. A world where he could simply live. Relax. Laugh.
A world devoid of others.
He had already made his choice. He would not allow anyone to talk him out of it. Slowly, Atticus raised both arms.
The desperate cries of his mother and father grew louder.
They became a symphony to his ears.
Still, both arms fell.
"Total Annihilation."
Whiteness engulfed the universe.
