The Primordial Record - Chapter 1858

Chapter 1858: Bad News And Good News

Rowan did not know how to respond to that question. How was he to know the features of this cave when it was buried the moment the rain of bones began? But then he only had to look back at his memories, and he wanted to slap himself; the cave had never disappeared, he had simply not been looking down at the ground all this time, not that it would have done him any good.

He had rightly assumed that the cave would have been covered by the rising mound of bones, and due to his limited perception inside this body, he could not pierce through the dense walls of falling bones.

With the number of bones falling from the sky, Rowan had been fighting inside darkness; there were not even spaces for air to pass in between the falling bones, as his situation was more as if he was wading through a sea of concrete moving at dozens of times the speed of light.

Rowan shook his head of all these distracting thoughts as he asked, “Who are you, and where is this place? I can’t sense the flow of time outside this place, so is the time I spend here the same as the time passing by in my Reality?”

The boy frowned —Rowan could tell by the subtle movement of his body. After all, whatever this entity was, they had perfectly moulded their body from the neck down into the shape of a human child.

“What I am is a bit complicated, but your rampage all these years has ensured that this cave of solitude has the time to gather enough charge to keep you safe for, oh let’s see, another million years, give or take a few seconds. So I guess we have time to chat. I will answer all your questions, but first, I want you to answer one of mine truthfully.”

Rowan paused. This was a loaded request; he could not give a promise he could not keep to an unknown entity, and yet he required the knowledge from this being. Finally, he replied when it seemed the boy was becoming impatient, “As long as it would not affect my other body out in Reality, then I will answer the question you asked… truthfully.”

The boy slapped his hands together, “Good, and no, this has nothing to do with Eos, but it would go a long way to helping him in the future. Basically, your answer can cannnot hurt him, but if it is good enough, it can help Eos a lot.”

“Ask,” Rowan said, curious about the question that this boy was placing so much weight behind, knowing that there were certain secrets he would not divulge, not even for the ephemeral promise of aid from this entity.

“Tell me, Rowan, um, can you cook?”

®

Three hours later, a veritable feast had been prepared before the boy, who was audibly swallowing all these while Rowan cooked. Following the request of the child, Rowan did not just summon food from nothing; instead, he created all the ingredients he would need for this feast.

Doing this cost him nothing but a few hours of time, and if his results here might in any way affect his main body, Rowan saw no reason not to go all out.

He had cooked enough to feed a thousand men, but the boy inhaled everything into his face and fell on his back, apparently in food coma, while groaning in pleasure. Rowan sat in silence and simply observed this child, a trace of recognition and pain flashing through his eyes.

“No, I am not him,” the child spoke up unexpectedly. No longer on his back, he was now sitting cross-legged in midair, “That boy in your mind, I am not him.”

“How would you know what is on my mind?” Rowan asked slowly.

“There are many things I know, and there are many things I do not know. One thing I do know is that I am not him.”

Rowan smiled almost self-deprecatingly, “And yet the body you wear is similar to his own, and you asked me one of the first questions he had ever asked me.”

The boy raised a finger, “That is one of the many things I know of, but that does not make me the same as him. This body, this craving for that question, all came from you. From your regrets. Of all the immortals I know of, your power, Rowan, you are the oddest. Your sentimentality is a great strength, but also your greatest weakness. Why else would you have touched the power of End if it was not to safeguard all the life under the heavens. You are a damn fool.”

Rowan assessed this boy, and he groaned, “You are the Avatar of my Final Form.”

“What gave me away?” the boy laughed, “And don’t count the many hints I have been dropping all this time.”

Rowan turned away from the boy and looked outside to the infinite realm of bones, “What is the connection that this place has with the Primordials?”

“Ah, now that can be a difficult question to answer, but I will tell you straight. First, there is bad news and good news. Which one do you want to hear first? Well, it doesn’t matter; I will tell you the bad news first. You asked if the time that passes here is equal to what passes outside, and yes, it does. You have spent three Cosmic Eras inside this place, and that same amount of time has passed outside.”

Rowan nearly staggered, the full weight of that realization almost drowning him in fear and panic. Before he awoke inside this place, he had lived for trillions of years in different dimensions, but that was nothing compared to the weight of three Cosmic Eras, in standard time scale, which was equivalent to three quattuordecillion years spent in this place. His entire lifespan before now was nothing compared to the time he spent here.

What was the present state of Reality? Was his main body dead, or did he survive? What changes would have happened in all existence after such a long span of time?

“Oh, and the bad news is not over,” the boy continued speaking, almost merrily, “You see, you cannot leave here, not for a very, very…. Very long time, because if you do, all the sacrifices that you have made would be cancelled. Now time for the good news!”

Rowan’s nameless technique had kept his Incarnation alive and fighting for three Cosmic Eras, but it had been worn down; however, he could perfectly re-use all the energy of that body and re-create another Incarnation that would have all the memories of the last Incarnation but none of the mental load that this memory brought… at least to an extent.

Even his perfect technique would inevitably hit a limit, and his mind would collapse one day, and if he were to be imprisoned inside this realm for an eternity, what was the point of fighting? Would his sacrifice truly matter in the end?

The cough from the boy interrupted his bleak musing, “I told you there was still good news, and here it is,” another cough, “Yes, time is moving across all of existence and you will spend a long time here, but the good news is that you can stop at any time and this nightmare would be over, because you are in the past Rowan… sixty-five million Cosmic Eras in the past!”

Rowan became frozen, and the boy chuckled, “When you told me to eat Primordials, did it ever occur to you what that truly meant?”