Chapter 759: When Fates Align (1/2)
Another ripple was released by the shard, and Zac felt like a universe was growing within his body as a storm of Creation spread out from head to toe. His body was rapidly transforming from the wild impulses it emitted, and he knew that anyone watching him right now would be beyond horrified by what they saw.
He desperately hold on to his image of reality to make sure the changes didn't spiral out of control, but reality suddenly felt malleable, open to reinterpretation. Alluring whispers beckoned for him to take the chance, to transcend from his lowly form, and he felt an echo of agreement from within the cage. Wasn’t he disappointed that his human form was so inferior to his Draugr side, be it in energy circulation to storage capabilities?
Why not change it? It only required a single thought.
It was a trap. Zac could feel it even in his mudded state. The remnants only dealt in backhanded gifts, and until it had been locked down and firmly controlled, he had to be careful with his desires. But that was easier said than done. The rampaging remnants scurried back and forth with blinding speed, leaving a trail of destructive creation in its wake.
Try as he might, it seemed almost impossible to curtail its rampage. Why was it so different from the last time? Was it because the shard in the volcano had enjoyed almost unlimited access to vast quantities of energy? Back in the Technocrat vessel, he hadn’t turned into a rapidly transforming monstrosity the moment he took on the shard.
Or had he?
Back then, he had been instantly knocked unconscious before getting whisked away by a vision, and who knew how long he had stayed unconscious. This time he had managed to stay awake, for better or worse. Part of him wanted to embrace that sweet darkness to avoid the horrifying agony of having your body reformed into one wretched state after another, but he didn’t dare to give in.
There was a good chance this was something new. It didn't seem like the shard’s actions were just its natural state of creative exuberance. Rather, it felt like the shard had already sensed its sibling, and it was shooting back and forth in an attempt to locate it. Zac couldn't let the thing continue unchecked, but he didn't even have a chance to figure something out before he felt reality slow down to a crawl.
The seed was suddenly locked in place just below Zac’s neck, and his limbs were no longer undergoing wild transformations between a series of ghoulish creations. Even the enormous whirlpool of magma around him had ground to a standstill, and it seemed to Zac that the only thing that moved were his thoughts.
Unfortunately, even they were starting to become hazy as his vision closed in on him. He felt his mind being dragged far away, and he desperately tried to tether at least a remnant piece of consciousness to his body before it all went dark.
A crackling sound full of ebullience echoed out into the void, each snap exuding the primordial Dao. For untold ages the [Spark of Creation] left its mark on the universe, its conceptions inching ever closer to that impossible threshold.
Worlds were born with a single breath, marvels beyond compare conjured with a thought. Its desire was the Heavens and its will the Earth. But as the spark grew more powerful, so did its hunger. Not even Creation could overcome the ancient Law of Balance, and every spark of inspiration had its price.
Worlds were born with a single breath, and stars dimmed to never shine again. The spark didn't mind. After all, change was a form of Creation as well, and it moved through the cosmos in search of more sustenance to fuel its blessings.
Hunger. Growth. Desire. The spark flashed, its tendrils stretching toward every corner of myriad planes. Creation was never over.
With a wave of his arm, the Spring Saint brought life to the desolate fields, his desire for life bending the harsh elements to his will. Of course, nothing came without a price, and his murky eyes turned to his followers whose backs were already bent over with premature age. Two years and they were already like this. He inwardly sighed as his eyes turned back to the seemingly lush grass that was springing up all around them.
Self-hatred burned in his heart, but he couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t tell his ardent supporters that it was a lie, that the bountiful gardens he wrought were a calamity waiting to happen. It was all a charade, his desire to create something greater supplanted by an older and undying will.
Soon, it would all turn to dust.
Hopefully, he and his followers would be dead before then. That way they wouldn’t have to witness the evil they had brought to their world. Even the purest intentions could be corrupted, even the most benevolent of deeds could be harmful. Life without soul was just corruption, and the world he had created was hollow.
The whispers had grown so loud, to the point that they almost drowned out the calls of the wild. Regret gnawed at her as she kept running, desperately trying to create some distance from the site of her outburst. A whole settlement turned to a monument of her folly, her people turned to sacrificial offerings to that insatiable desire.
It was never enough. It always wanted more. More energy, more impressions, more yearning. It could never be satiated, that ancient madness that had permeated her very being. Silence was oppression, stillness was death.
She was so hungry. She had denied herself for fifty years, wanting nothing, doing nothing, wasting her potential and future in an effort to stem the inevitable. Even then, the clamors had grown louder, and her attempts to impose order now seemed so laughable. Four quick jumps took her to the top of the mountain, far from any settlements or reflection pools.
The moons were so beautiful today.
She had been renamed after Sarda’Lavain, the Shepherd, the moment her talent was discovered. The council had hoped she would be a shepherd, keeping the flock safe from the darkness of the Ymrid Expanse. The moons had looked just like they did now during the ceremony.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she finally let herself remember. The whole mountain rumbled as one statue after another appeared, memories given form in one final salute. Ten, fifty, a thousand scenes appeared, wrought with loving detail in stone and wood. They were alive in a sense, as they lived in her desire.
Nature screamed with pain as the Sarda'Lavain led her flock into the one place the curse couldn't follow - nothingness.
Zac's soul was taken on a journey through one horrid fate after another as the world stood still around him. Not one of the visions was a scene of triumph. They all depicted the inevitable doom waiting at the end of absorbing a Shard of Creation, to the point that Zac felt something was amiss. Did the new shard in his body sense that he had already locked away its siblings, and was now trying to wear down his confidence?
If so, it would take more than this. He was just a child in multiverse terms, but his will wouldn’t be broken by something like this. He had goals that keep him on the path. He would get there even if he had to extinguish that ancient will that had tainted Creation itself.
And even if he didn't believe in himself, he believed in the System and its greed for more chaos patterns. This wasn't the place where he would fall. He simply let the scenes wash over him, each one of them a lesson to engrave in his heart.
But suddenly, the scenes stopped, like they had two times before. His consciousness once found itself on that lofty mountain, staring at the being sitting on the peak as the sky danced in a thousand colors, each ray containing a facet of truth that far surpassed anything Zac knew.
“Oh?” the Aetherlord said as he opened his eyes, his word rife with the Dao. “You again?”
The last time Zac had been sent to this mountain top he had been in the F-grade and still clueless about a lot of things. He had been a frog in the bottom of a well so to speak, but years of hardship and experiences had greatly broadened his horizons. Only now could he fully appreciate what kind of monster appeared before him.