Chapter 16: Embracing One’s True Self Is the Only Way Forward. Is there any other choice?
Primer stared at his former home with a stone-cold, detached expression. He felt only emptiness—now that he knew his fate was sealed, could anything really change?
Is it truly possible to alter the past?
No—pointless. The past lives only in my mind; the future is the only thing I can shape. My presence in the past is incomplete, and if I try to meddle with destiny or stray from the natural course, time itself will thwart my selfish deeds and snap me back to my original timeline.
“Lost to the Light.”
Primer whispered the words of the invisibility spell. Light passed through his body, rendering him unseen, so he could move among mortals without drawing attention. Yet every negative reaction he sensed now drained his spirit. This “spiritual fatigue” was only temporary, but if left unchecked it could lead to depression—and even shorten his lifespan.
Silently, with footsteps quieter than the stillest void, he crossed the threshold of his old home. After nearly a million years, he had returned. Yet this place was no longer home—it was a prison of pain and madness, haunted by cries and deranged laughter.
Shattered pottery, broken windowpanes, and the splintered remains of a television littered the floor. Everything lay in ruin, as though a storm, not a person, had torn the place apart.
He made his way to the room he once considered his sanctuary—his old chamber.
A toppled wooden chair and a noose hanging from the ceiling came into view. In the corner, a madman huddled, knees drawn to his chest like a fetus in the womb. He tore at his hair, weeping and babbling incoherently. His tear-streaked eyes glowed red, and blood stained his hands and the white of his robe.
Primer froze, staring at the broken reflection before him.
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Had I truly succumbed to this level of madness…?
A frail whisper broke the silence.
“Mo… Mother… Father… Nova… Why… why did you abandon me!? I’m alone… so very… very alone… I want to be with you… I’m scared… I’m in pain… sob… sob…”
With a heavy gaze, Primer sat beside the broken figure and stared at the rope. He sank his emotions deep within his heart. He wanted to speak to his past self, but no words came. Instead, he sat in mournful silence, grieving the sorrows of his former life.
---
Soon after, Primer mounted the crimson-scaled fish and hurtled forward along his own timeline. Because the current flowed in his favor, they arrived quickly. He stroked the fish’s scaly head in farewell, then grasped the thread of time and was drawn away. In moments, he vanished, and the fish swam on, sorrowful.
---
The infernal planet of Primer welcomed him once more with its searing heat.
“It feels… oddly like home.”
Although he had accused Isis of lying, he wasn’t sure which parts of her story were truth and which were deceit. He knew only that she hadn’t told the whole truth—she’d woven lies into her words.
For instance, she claimed the explosion was orchestrated by that hidden master who ruled the underworld in the shadows. Yet Isis herself could manipulate minds and destinies so subtly that no one would suspect a thing. If she could do that, why would she admit it?
Another point of suspicion was her initial ultimatum: he had only three months to choose his successor—a very short window for someone so young and, barring unforeseen accidents, potentially long-lived. It made sense that she’d plan his death and persuade him to kill himself.
“How naive I was… I thought my family’s deaths—and the deaths of so many—weren’t my fault. Now I see it was all premeditated… And now…”
Primer’s voice fell silent as he stared into the flowing magma.
“…now the time for change has come. If I was once a pawn of fate, I am now something beyond humanity and its limits. Why dwell on the cup half-empty? I am free from every human constraint! No more worrying about a career. No more fretting over my place among mortals. Ha—now I am a true god!”
The planet trembled at his declaration, and his thin voice deepened into an ethereal, terrifying echo, reverberating through caverns and bending reality itself. He had accepted his true self—and felt no attachment to his past life, except for one thing…
“Nova… just hold on a little longer. I will build a world worthy of the name ‘magical realm.’”
He knew that to create a living, magical world he needed knowledge—knowledge Isis had promised would come with advancing his Core and achieving certain milestones. True or false, he could not tell. Yet he decided to trust her. After all, he had eons ahead of him; Nova’s spirit would not wither in the aged orb. So he resolved to devote two million years to progress, believing this was the only way to reach the level he required.
