Chapter 5053: Acceleration I

While two men crossed weavings of Infinities to go seek a Primordial Architect...

The isolated region of Jotunheim had transformed beyond recognition.

Seas of multicolored brilliance from the Pluvial Epoch of Existential Infinity had gathered in basins that previously held nothing but ice and desolation. A citadel emerged from these accumulated waters, its structure crystallized from condensed authority that the epoch had deposited across the landscape.

Rain continued falling in rivers of combined Existence, Quintessence,and Infinity, painting the skies with hues that existence rarely witnessed in such concentration.

THE Living Temporal sat in a meditative position before this transformed citadel, ancient rivers of time flowing around his figure in configurations that bent perception.

Amser Modred appeared as a man both old and young simultaneously, his features shifting between ages depending on which angle observed them. Dignity and grace permeated his bearing despite the casual nature of his seated posture.

His robes flowed with temporal currents that made their fabric appear frozen and moving at the same instant.

He possessed Bounded Countable Infinity now, granted to him by THE Youngest through bonds of servitude that had proven far more generous than expected.

His existence was currently exuberant, all his eons of progress culminating heavily as a daring idea crystallized within his awareness. He was actually contemplating forming his Anchor. The Civilizational Anchor that THE Second Scale demanded, the absolute self-knowledge that permitted transition beyond THE First Scale into heights he had spent lifetimes believing were beyond his reach.

THE Youngest made impossible things possible with Infinity. Why not him as well?

Perhaps he and many others required only the courage to follow Osmont’s lead. After all, Osmont had not gone mad with Infinity just yet.

As he contemplated these possibilities, rivers of Temporal Infinity coalesced behind him.

The multicolored currents flowed toward THE Secretive Eon, who had been examining herself since regaining consciousness. She stood apart from the others, her dark eyes fixed upon hands that had recently been controlled by something other than her own will.

THE Primordial Mycelia had used her existence as a puppet, and the memory of that violation pressed against her awareness with a force that demanded response.

Behind Amser, Abaddon sat touching his chest with blank expression.

This guy was still reeling. His fingers pressed against his sternum as though searching for something that should have been there, something so fundamental to his identity that its absence made him question whether he still existed at all.

At this time, a determined expression finally formed on the face of THE Secretive Eon.

She cracked her neck with sharp motion, the sound echoing across the transformed landscape. Authority flashed across her body in waves of illumination that pressed against everything nearby. Her robe shifted from whatever state it had held before into pristine white that seemed to reject any stain or imperfection. Her dark hair shimmered with light that came from within rather than reflecting from without.

She turned toward the absent-minded figure of Abaddon.

Her hand shot out and grasped his neck before he could react, her fingers closing around flesh that offered no resistance. She lifted him slightly, forcing his blank eyes to meet her cold gaze.

"I planned to destroy and then hold all the Keys of Civilizations, starting with you."

Her voice emerged frigid and grand, each word carrying conviction refined across her existence.

"You would have been the stepping point for me to go after Erwin, to determine if I even possessed a chance against THE Creature. But you go and lose your Claim?"

Her grip tightened.

"Were you not supposed to be the oldest of the Claimers? You fucking loser."

BOOM!

Her words pressed against the transformed landscape as her gaze burned with coldness that would have made lesser beings flinch.

Yet Abaddon did not even react. He simply observed her with absent expression, his eyes holding nothing but the emptiness where Chaos had once resided!

Her fury meant nothing to him. Her threats meant nothing to him. The loss of his Claim had taken something from his existence that made everything else irrelevant.

Amser Modred turned around and frowned at the scene unfolding behind him.

"Leave him be. Even with a lost Claim, he is still..."

He rose and moved to separate the two as he spoke, his temporal authority gathering around him in preparation for intervention. Before he could complete either his sentence or his action, something unexpected occurred.

THE Secretive Eon used her other hand.

It shone with terrifying light, power concentrated into a strike that moved faster than Amser’s temporal perception could process. The blow connected with his chest and launched him backward with force that should not have been possible from someone he had considered roughly his equal or lesser!

Amser smashed into the multicolored seas nearby, his form creating waves of displaced authority that rippled outward in all directions. He tumbled through the liquid brilliance until friction finally brought him to a stop, his body half-submerged in waters that soaked through his temporal robes.

He looked up in shock at what had just occurred.

THE Secretive Eon continued staring at Abaddon without acknowledging Amser’s displacement.

"Emotive took your Claim? The one you and Paradox and THE Creature have been using for pleasure all these eons?"

Her voice dripped with contempt.

"Big fucking men in power, and a loose woman brings you down like this? Maddening."

She was furious for reasons that extended beyond just simple frustration.

Something she had been planning to do before her existence was controlled by another had already been accomplished by someone else.

The destruction of the Keys of Civilizations and replacement had been her purpose. Her goal.

And now someone she had not even considered significant had accomplished what she intended before she could even attempt it.

THE Living Emotive, that manic creature obsessed with emotions, had stripped Chaos from someone THE Secretive Eon had marked as her first target.

She shook her head and tightened her grip on Abaddon.

At this moment, a deep voice boomed out from above.

"Woah, I do not sense any weavings of Unity anymore. Did that fellow work so quickly while I was getting my ass handed to me?"

The voice paused.

"Eon, is that you?"

...!

THE Secretive Eon and Amser Modred raised their heads to observe what had arrived.

THE Primordial Paradox descended from heights that seemed infinite, his obsidian titanic body shining with blue and gold light that pressed against the transformed landscape of Jotunheim. Paradox burned around him brilliantly, that contradictory authority declaring his nature to anyone capable of perceiving it. He was massive and ancient and dangerous!

Eon met his gaze without releasing Abaddon, her grip remaining tight around his neck.

After a moment of consideration, she permitted her fingers to open.

Abaddon slumped to the ground without acknowledging his release.

"Mmm. I have to thank Osmont, even though I promised to hunt him after I was done with others."

Her voice emerged thoughtful rather than grateful.

THE Primordial Paradox smiled at her words, amusement flickering across his obsidian features.

"I do not think you will be able to do that."

He descended lower, his massive form coming to rest upon the transformed landscape.

"But no matter. You appear to be getting left behind here. Do you want to take that step to form your Anchor? I can help you out if you help me with your Civilization."

...!

His words were substantial ones. THE Secretive Eon scowled at the implication that she required assistance.

She looked up at him and spoke.

"Has your disciple grasped THE Second Scale already? That will make it difficult for me to do anything against him."

THE Primordial Paradox smiled more broadly at her concern.

"He possessed that power already. Oh, and he has a Singular Cognizance and likely Primordial Architects he has allied with, so you alone may not be able to do much."

His obsidian form shifted with amusement.

"You were already working with Osmont, yes? Just consider this an extension."

...!

His words were grand as THE Secretive Eon contemplated what he offered.

She thought for a moment before releasing a sigh of resignation.

Her gaze fell upon Abaddon one final time, distaste visible in her expression as she observed the broken figure who had once been the oldest of the Keys of Civilizations. Then she took a step and disappeared from Jotunheim entirely, her existence folding through spaces that carried her toward where she would have THE Primordial Paradox follow.

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