Chapter 1929: You Shall Give Me A Key Enoch blinked slowly before focusing his gaze on the only being in all creation who was worthy to hear his story, "I can see the hate in your eyes, Rowan, and it is a good thing that you do not try to hide it. You think I am going too far, don’t you? But you failed to realize that what End took from me could not be changed, and to get back myself, I had to do... anything." Rowan shrugged, "Nothing you say would change the way I feel about you, but the years ahead are endless, and you have not finished your tale. Perhaps at the end of it, I shall change my mind, but that is not likely. Now, all I can do is listen to your words. You know my story but I do not know yours, and telling them to me is important, because I know that there is a part of you that understands that despite all your plans and advantages, that you may still fall, and if that happens, someone will have to remember your story, for it is not yours alone, but also the Luminious." 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎 Enoch was silent for a moment, a touch of introspection entering his eyes, Rowan did not think his words could change the mindset of this fallen Luminious, not really, time and his reckless actions had refined him into becoming something that was the true personification of Evil, but he knew there had to be moments of reflection, and even though these moments would never last or have lasting impacts, forcing those moments to occur was a victory all of its own. "You know, Rowan, I sometimes wonder if there was an existence that predated the Luminious, or if we were truly the first. That thought only occurred to me when I saw so many in the creation that I made believe themselves to be the first of everything. Ah, the foolishness of life, were my people also this foolish?" Enoch shook his head as if he was discarding bad thoughts, and he returned to his tale. That moment of reflection was lost, and all Rowan could see was a being on a mission. "I began with dreams. I started small across ten thousand new Realities who had forgotten that I once existed. I entered the souls of their creation and whispered into sleeping minds, promising what every living thing secretly wants: more time, more power, more meaning. I taught tyrants how to live forever by drinking the years of their subjects, because at that time, there was a clear demarcation between mortal and immortal, and you were either born an immortal or a mortal, as there was no way to close that gap. Rowan, I created cultivation." "I taught lovers how to bind souls so tightly that neither could ever leave, even when love turned to hate. I taught children that growing up was optional if they were willing to cut away the parts of themselves that insisted on tomorrow. Slowly, my endless work began to make an impact across reality as the first real war that rocked multiple realities arose. Corruption spread like frostbite. Stars developed cancers that sang. Oceans learned to thirst. Gods began to fear their own worshippers. And in the slow rot of centuries, I, Enoch, waited for the seven who would be the keys to my freedom." Rowan’s breathing almost came to a halt. Finally, it was here, the true birth of the Primordials. Enoch had casually brushed past their creation in the past, but he knew there was much more to their history than this, and the Primordials were an integral component to existence that could not be denied. Now, with the assistance of Lumina flooding his soul, he could not just hear it from Enoch; he was essentially there as it all happened. "They were born on a single small world of blue oceans and iron mountains, seven siblings delivered in one bloody night beneath a moon the color of an open wound. Their mother died giving birth to the youngest. Their father vanished into the woods and was never seen again. The world named them cursed. The world was right, for a long time I was looking for these unique curses, and now I had found them." Seven mortals stood in a field of blood and bodies, no older than ten years old at the time, but they were all agents of destruction: Nyxara, Xylos, Eldrithor, Xyris, Elgorath, Asteroath, and Vorthas. Some people were born different, and these children needed proper guidance to keep them from falling off the cliff, but they got the worst. They were born different, but it was due to their unique gifts that Enoch had been searching for. And Rowan saw in the memory of Enoch that the eldest sibling was not Nyxara, as he had always believed; it was Xylos, and he could taste lies in the air. Then there was Eldrithor, the secondborn, who never bled, no matter how deep the cut. Asteroath, who spoke to fire, was answered. Vorthas, who could walk through any wall but never found a door he wanted on the other side. Xyris, who dreamed the future and woke screaming. Elgorath, who collected hearts the way others collect coins. And little Nyxara, the seventh, who had no gift at all—until the day she smiled, and the sun that lit up a hundred realities dimmed. Rowan could see that these seven were special, and they could not be created by Enoch. Their talents might seem to be nothing in the grand scheme of things, but they were the unique lock that Enoch needed to reverse his decline, as only they could access the special kind of power he could give them. He wanted to reach across and take these children; they were born different, and so they were hated, even by their parents. And Rowan had to remind himself that these were memories of events he could not touch, and the voice of Enoch droned on without pause, uncaring about the disaster he was about to plunge across all of existence. "I selected well, Rowan. These seven grew up feral, hated, feared, and... magnificent. I watched them the way a spider watches flies already caught in an invisible web. I was patient because I knew that when they were grown, when the world had scarred them enough to make them dangerous, I would begin my visit." "I came to them first as a voice in the flames when Nyxara sat alone. Then as a reflection in still water that smiled when Xylos did not. Then as the shadow that walked beside Elgorath even at noon." "I offered them what every orphan wants: a purpose. A family bigger than blood. A revenge vast enough to fit their rage. And finally, when they were ready, I led them to the orchard. All my years of corrupting Reality were for this moment, all the deaths and destructions freed enough of my essence that I would be able to create this place. I was desperate; it could not last because the endless forces of creation were already pulling back the power that I had gathered, but I still succeeded." "The orchard grew in a place that should not exist: a valley folded between seconds, where time pooled like spilled milk. Seven trees stood in a perfect circle, each bearing a single fruit. The fruits were not fruit. They were pieces of me, compressed, crystallized, still faintly warm with the memory of a heartbeat," Rowan could see the orchard and the trees, the result of destruction that ravaged hundreds of Realities. If those living at that moment had been a bit wiser, Enoch’s whispers would have been nothing, and he would not have had the capability of gathering so much power, but greed and fear caused them to battle and give the architect of their destruction all the tools he needed to finish them off. On each tree was a single fruit, and the first tree had a fruit of frozen starlight, sharp as grief. The second had a fruit of black glass that bled when you touched it. The third was a fruit of living flame that did not burn the hand but burned the past. The fourth was a fruit shaped like an eye that wept liquid night. The fifth was a fruit that screamed when picked, and the scream was tomorrow. The sixth was a fruit made of mirrors reflecting every face you have ever hated. And the last, a small, ordinary-looking thing, pale and soft, the only one that looked edible. It pulsed, very gently, like a heart that had learned to be humble. Then Enoch spoke to them; his voice could barely be heard. He had given all he could into the creation of these fruits, but in this place, they could hear his voice as clear as day. "Eat," he said, "and you will never kneel again. Eat, and the thing that abandoned you will beg to be remembered. Eat, and you will become the new First Beings. And all I ask in return is a small thing. You shall give me a key."