"We welcome everyone to the final day of the Primeval Universe's Final tournament of the thousandth Generation of the Grand Ascension Tournament! This tournament is a once-in-a-thousand-year event for those of you just watching now. Today's tournament looks to be a special one, as even with a thousand tournaments per generation and a thousand years between tournaments, you don't often get over a hundred participants in the immortal tier of the tournament, much less three hundred and eighty-four who participated this year! Alas, even with three hundred and eighty-four Ascenders who have fought, trained, and tested themselves for untold years to reach the point they have, only two could make it to this final precipice, the final day!"

Enthralled by the announcer's words, a colossal crowd, numbering in the tens of trillions strong, erupted in a thunderous cheer. The sheer magnitude of their excitement was such that, were it not for the stadium being one massive magical artifact, the gathering of people would have extended far beyond the horizon, larger than some moons. Encircling the arena, several majestic thrones were strategically placed, some vacant but many still occupied by figures of all shapes and sizes, each one a testament to the diversity of the realms represented.

"If you turn your attention to the arena floor, you will find our two final contestants entering!"

The crowd's cheer reached a crescendo as the first finalist emerged, a woman who appeared in a dazzling blue sparks display. She bore the appearance of someone in her early twenties, yet an undeniable aura of agelessness set her apart from any true twenty-year-old.

"First to appear, Alice Eternamane of the Flaircon Dominion!"

At the mention, a figure in one of the majestic thrones raised their hand, what looked to be a cross between a dragon and a man.

"A top ten finisher of the last tournament, Alice was ranked a high favorite to come out on top this tournament after her endorsement and adoption into the Flaircon Dominion last tournament! Never disappointing, she has looked to crush her opposition, cruising through those who would be recognized as her peers."

Once more, a cheer erupted as the woman flicked her coils of curling red hair over her shoulder, a devastating smile swooning the hearts and minds of many a young boy who'd never seen an Immortal-Tier Ascender before.

"And now, for her opponent! A dark horse challenger, few knew his name coming into this tournament, if in part due to his young age, a mere ten thousand years old!"

A young man appeared in the same flurry of blue sparks that had marked his opponent's entrance. He was of fairly average height, with black and grey speckled hair and a nose that, for whatever reason, appeared as if it had been punched one too many times, a strange flaw for an Immortal Tier Ascender.

At his appearance, a murmur escaped the crowd. To those who understood what it meant to be an Immortal Tier Ascender, the man reminded them of their shortcomings and a statement of impossibility. Those considered the truest geniuses and talents still often took at least a hundred thousand years to reach the pinnacle of the mortal tiers. With each ascension achieved, an Ascender could expect a longer and longer life span, before even the threat of an aging death was rebuked upon the fifteenth ascension, even a million years would not inflict a scratch or blemish.

The oft-dreamt-of Immortal Ascension, otherwise known simply as the immortal tier. Few reached it; the raw commitment and challenges required to crest that mountain claimed most who ever tried. For a young man, only ten thousand years old, reaching that point was as confounding as the many Cosmoses themselves flipping on their heads.

"Perhaps such an achievement should have been expected from a member of the Spear's Familia, a hidden genius amongst geniuses!"

A raucous explosion of noise erupted from those watching. Few had known of the connection between the young Ascender and the Spear's familia; only those who had done the due diligence and, more importantly, expended quite a few resources had uncovered the truth before the reveal.

"Now, I'm sure you're all wondering, for a member of the Spear Familia, the question remains: Where has the spear been?"

Now that the revelation had been made, many had indeed begun to wonder. The young ascender had never been seen using a spear throughout the tournament. As if waiting for that moment, the man slammed his hand downward as a simple-looking spear manifested, the butt of the shaft slamming on the ground.

"And there it is!" The announcer roared. "Give it up for L'yante Dosor of the Spear Familia!"

If the cheers had been loud before, the combined noise was now of a new scale; loud enough, it could have shaken even a mid-tier planet to pieces through the sheer force of the vibrational acoustics.

Waiting until the noise had died down, the announcer spoke once more.

"And now, unlike prior rounds, the round to declare our champion is rather straightforward. Approach each other, shake hands, and prepare for battle. The battle shall ensue until surrender, or in the absence of a surrender, until death! Now, combatants, ready yourselves!"

The young man strode forward, shaking his opponent's hand, her face a mask of impossible-to-read thoughts. After formalities were finished, the two separated, striding far enough apart as they prepared. Watching his opponent, the young man took a deep breath, though breathing hadn't been strictly necessary for a long time now, as his grip on his spear tightened.

"And…. begin!"

A single figure remained standing as the dust cleared from the final exchange. Shattered spear still held in his hand, he pressed the jagged edge to the woman's throat.

"Do you yield?"

For a moment, the fiery-maned woman appeared as if she would say no, but her face softened, and she shrugged.

"Fine." She said with a sigh.

The moment the surrender was uttered, the two combatants were whisked away, now standing upon a shining white obsidian crystal column. Several others were standing on other pillars, for a total of ten.

"And with the final round concluded, we have the top ten finishes of the final tournament of the thousandth generation!"

Of the ten, only a few appeared human. In second place, Alice Eternamane had appeared purely human until she'd gotten serious, crimson scales marking her skin and revealing her true nature as a Dragonoid, a surprise race change since the last tournament she'd participated in. Another of the contenders appeared human, that is, until one glanced toward their ears, sharp and elongated, the clear signs of an elf genotype. Three more of the ten finalists were all of the same race: short, four-armed, and stout, the obvious features of Deep Dwarves. Another two finalists had skin the color of gold, a given since their skin was gold. Perhaps more interesting than their gold skin were their arms, which were made of solid light.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Raidens, a rare but powerful race.

Finally, the last two contestants were split between a very short figure whose skin was as white as snow with piercing green eyes and a final contender that looked like nothing more than an ordinary turtle.

"Now, with their place amongst the top ten, each will be gifted personal boons from the gathered Prominence, with varying degrees of uniqueness based on their finishes. So, give it up with one final cheer for our top ten finishers!"

The crowd roared, but the champion already had his mind elsewhere, thinking of what he was after. For a minute longer, the cheering continued until the scene changed before his very eyes. No longer was he standing on a pillar in front of countless cheering fans. Now, he was in a room unlike anything he'd seen before. It was obviously a room meant for gatherings, but something about it seemed strange, an aesthetic taste he'd never seen in ten thousand years.

"Congratulations on your victory. Total domination can only be expected from those I've personally accepted into my familia." A voice purred from nearby. A woman was seated on one end of a round table surrounded by chairs with wheels on the bottom of each leg for whatever reason.

His eyes widened for a moment. The woman was unmistakable. Her hair was a deep shade of purple, nearly black, falling to her waist in a bound ponytail that appeared like it could be utilized as a natural whip if she were ever desperate enough.

Given that she was widely accepted as the most powerful combatant, period, the idea of her ever being desperate was rather... unlikely. Not only was she a member of the Prominence, the most well-connected and influential throughout the boundless universes, but she was also a True Immortal, the upper echelon standing atop all other Ascension groupings.

Making up the vastness of every tier, four Ascension groupings split the many tiers. The first was the mortal realm, tiers one through fourteen. Their naming was apt; the claws of time would claim any who remained within those tiers. A tier fourteen may live for over two hundred thousand years, but even they would eventually perish with time.

Following the mortal tier was the Immortal Tier, which he had just stepped into not long ago. This realm, tiers fifteen through twenty-four, was where mortal death ceased to occur, untouched by time. While they no longer feared the ravages of time, a lethal blow could still claim their lives.

Ascension tiers Twenty-five through forty-nine, the 'largest' grouping, was known as the Immortal Totality, or simply the Totality tier; it was the realm where death became all but impossible. Destruction of the body and the essence of the soul was often required to put someone of the Totality realm down for good.

It was the final grouping of Ascension tiers that was perhaps the most mysterious, but also unsurprisingly the most powerful, the True Immortals, tiers fifty and above, though how far above was unknown; those who had reached such heights were only limited by resources to continue their advancement. While the death of someone in Totality was difficult, sometimes nigh impossible, True Immortals weren't just unkillable—they were laws of reality, as immutable as gravity, and in some cases, even more so. Upon reaching such a level, it was as if their existence became Law, unchangeable and eternal, attaining omnimmortalis, the truest form of immortality.

It had been recorded that in the past, there had been attempts to assassinate a True Immortal with tools born through costly usage of Major Laws, capable of creating or rewriting the rules of reality. Armed with tools that, at the minimum, should have been easily capable of erasing things as abstract as concepts from existence, the would-be assassins ambushed the 'unlucky' True Immortal.

Yet, the True Immortal who had been 'assassinated' eventually returned only a mere millennia later, unblemished by weapons that could easily erase entire universes. The proof was that the very same True Immortal was seated nearby in her chair, clearly having fun rolling around at the end of the long table.

"Would you quit scooting around so much?" Another voice spoke up from the opposite end of the table, dismissing the legendary warrior and figure of mythical strength as if she were an annoying child. Turning to look at the second voice, the young Immortal felt his throat clench. The second figure was a man who appeared in his mid to early forties, though any high-level being could easily control their appearance. For a moment, the young immortal felt a scan examine him; the man had just analyzed him. Typically, such an act would be considered rude, but for a True Immortal to do as much could only be viewed as an honor; not only could a True Immortal have hidden their analyze if they so pleased, but the fact that he was worthy of the analysis was a reward beyond praise.

The young immortal's breath hitched after a moment, realizing dawning upon him. The man before him was the Architect—a legend even among True Immortals.

"I greet the Honored Architect." The young immortal bowed before the True Immortal, who sighed.

"Yes, yes, honor and all that." The man rolled his eyes. "Allison, are you still letting your familia teach one another that stupid crap?"

Allison? The young immortal paused, realizing that what he had just heard was something most scholars and historians would gladly die or sacrifice entire planets to learn, if not galaxies: the name of one of the eldest True Immortals.

"Honor, something you wouldn't understand."

"Whatever you say." The man, known only as the Architect, sighed again. "Well, on to business. At the request of your familia head, or more specifically, at the request of an old acquaintance-"

"Friend." The Spear, True Immortal and progenitor of the Spear Familia, —Allison, as the Architect had called her— corrected.

"- I have taken the time out of my busy schedule to have an audience with you, a member of her familia." The Architect said.

"Busy schedule my ass." The Spear scoffed. "You were probably in some remote workshop, tinkering on some little project."

The Architect narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't a little project, I'll have you know. But that's beside the point. Of any Prominence member, of any True Immortal, it was me you wanted an audience with, a rather odd request. Given your rather rare Vocation, I can roughly understand, but it's still quite odd."

Without intending to, L'yante's interface flickered open, and information on skills, vocation, and other usually private details began to scroll past for everyone to see.

"Spear of the Precursors. For the billions of years I've been alive, only a handful of individuals have managed that, the first being your Family Head there."

Finding his voice, the young immortal finally spoke up; the pressure of two True Immortals, even without exuding any of their normal force, felt like it was suffocating him from the thought of who they were alone.

"I requested to converse with you for my reward specifically because of my Vocation." He said.

"Oh? Just a conversation, not a petition for some mythical class weapon or such? How your spear exploded tells me you could use an upgrade after all."

The young immortal shook his head.

"No. A weapon can always be found or crafted or bought, but what I want is something that few, if any, know about."

"And that is?" The Architect leaned forward.

"History." The young immortal said. "Because of my rare Vocation, I've learned things that most never learn, even some of the greatest historians. It made me curious. Everyone knows how powerful the True Immortals are. Less know just how old some of you are, just that between you, the Spear, and several others, you've seemingly been around since… Well, ever. But that's what I want to know. Of the True Immortals who haven't gone into self-enforced exile of more than fifty million years, you're the most likely to have any records of your long history."

"So, to sum it up." The True Immortal chuckled. "You want our story?"

The young immortal's eyes shimmered as he nodded confidently. "Yes."

"And you aren't trying to find our weaknesses somehow? Because I could tell you her weaknesses easily enough, half of them consist of tricking her into a trap by saying you found a strong monster, such as when there was this Void Star Lion and-"

"You don't need to recount that story." The Spear snapped.

"No, I'm not looking for any specific weaknesses, not that I am deluded enough to believe it would matter. Simply put, my path forward is a long and winding road; I have no need or desire for specific gifts; in fact, some of my skills specifically prohibit obtaining too much help from others. So, all I want is to learn."

The True Immortal leaned back in his office chair, an item from a history long lost.

"Well then, buckle up because this story is as old as time. Or perhaps I should say it's older than time. And it all starts in a universe that no longer exists…"

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