Chapter 1695: Slaughter Revenant Rowan was bathed in a sea of lamentation and madness for what felt like an eternity, and his mind was brought past the threshold of madness that shattered his soul into pieces. It was only his flesh that kept him sane. His physique was unchanging and unbreakable; he was able to find solace within it, but Rowan did not want the allure of tranquility. This was not why he picked this Aspect; he wanted blood, he wanted madness, and he pushed himself away from the safety of his flesh. Dragging his torn and battered soul into the songs of madness being created by a trillion bloody skulls, Rowan joined them and led their symphony, and the song of madness began to rise. There was so much for him to rage against, so much pain and suffering that he had been forced to endure, so much madness he had to live through. Rowan could see the face of all his dead children, his children of the stars, his angels, forced to become weapons just to harm him.... He could see the death of his mother, his friend, his sons and daughters... the countless weight of all that had come and gone and the smiles he may never see again... "BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM" A resounding thump like the sound of a marching army a trillion strong shook the space, as Rowan’s mad roar emerged from the lamentations of madness, "I am the scream that shall end the Primordials! I shall end the omnipotent and gnaw on their bones." Accompanied by the wails of madness from the bleeding skulls, a frenzied air of madness and desolation rose from this space as if it had become the site of the summoning of a primordial of blood and madness. "BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM" "I am the Black Hymn of Annihilation! I am the hollowing of the infinite, the final nightmare that outlives dreams..." A terrible scream arose from the skulls as if the words of Rowan brought pain and despair, before their number exploded in magnitude, as the skulls could no longer be counted, their numbers represented all the dead inside of Reality, and Rowan was giving them a voice. "Let all of existence look upon me and despair!" Rowan did not notice it at first, but as he spoke, another voice was sounding with him. If a shadow were given voice, it would sound like this. A loud cry like the hymn of a demented chorus being sung by mad gods resounded in a weird tone as if it were being sang in reversed broke out across the countless skulls and they began to pour into the body of Rowan who also started to scream in a manner where it was unknown if it was pain, pleasure or madness. The skulls could not enter through any part of his body but his mouth, and despite billions of skulls pouring down his throat in every moment, his screams never ended. A bright red glow emerged from his body like a bloody sun, and the figure of Rowan was lost within it. From afar, it was as if a gigantic red egg enveloped him. ® Two hundred thousand years went by in the blink of an eye, and the shell that covered him had gone dark. Inside the dark shell, Rowan awakened and took his first breath after all this time, and the shell surrounding him, which was stronger than any material found inside Reality, collapsed into nothing. Rowan looked down upon himself. There were not many changes in his body, except his crown, which no longer shone with the glow of fading dimensions; it was now tinged in red, as if every dimension was a hell soaked in endless bloodshed. He felt an itch across his body, and with a flex of his will, his naked body was transformed, and a reddish black full-body armor was forged from the wings of all his dead angels. They were gone, but they remained with him. Countless sigils of blood pulsed through the armor, and Rowan’s hair turned red. There should be a shroud of desolation covering him now, but instead, there was nothing but sadness as he slowly caressed the armor. In every feather, he could see the face of all his dead angels. "I do not deserve to be called a father to you all if I do not bring their heads to worship at your graves." His eyes slowly turned to the side as he looked at the page of the Primordial Record, and as he had expected, all of his Aspects were gone, except one. Slaughter Revenant. Rowan shuddered. The name was simple, but he felt it was fitting. In the process of creating this Aspect, his bloodlust and rage were not the only ingredients; otherwise, the result would have been something else, but the rage of the Primordial Record was added to it. It was not everything that the Record had to give. Rowan did not think his mind was capable of holding all of that primordial rage, but it was enough to mutate this Aspect further into something that was devoted only to the art of killing. "Primordial Record, tell me what a slaughter revenant is?" Blood-drenched words cut across the page of the black book like a knife carving into quivering flesh. The Slaughter Revenant is the fallen of war—a being who channels the scream of dead divinities into unstoppable, reality-ending fury. Your rage is not just physical; it shall corrupt Reality itself. It shall turn the heavens into a funeral dirge and the earth into a slaughterhouse of divine retribution. Every word written on the page of the black book was a shock through Rowan’s system, and he would have collapsed to the ground if not for the power of his body that held him in place. He could be dead, but his body would never fall. "Show me what a Slaughter Revenant is capable of." Apocalyptic Onslaught (Berserker Perfected) 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶 Infinite Rage: The more you fight, the stronger, faster, and more indestructible you become—there is no cap to this power. Blood of the Slain Gods: Every wound you take releases a wave of cursed energy, draining the life and power from everything nearby to fuel you. Battlefield Possession: The ground you walk on becomes a graveyard of phantom warriors, fighting for you in echoes of past battles. Unlike the Apex Omniversal Titan’s powers that were singular and whole, a Slaugher Revenant possessed two aspects, and Rowan had just seen the Berserker’s side, and now it was time to see the powers of the fallen Celestials. Lament of the Vanished Heavens (Celestial Wrath) Divine Plague: Your mere presence infects the world with "Heaven’s Rot"—a metaphysical decay that: Erodes magic. Kills hope. Twists sanctity. Voice of the Dead Pantheon: Your roar is a chorus of murdered gods, dealing psychic, spiritual, and physical damage simultaneously. This was the power of the Celestial side, but there was still more. The true strength of a Slaughter Revenant emerged when these two sides were brought together, giving birth to a forbidden power. Eclipse Form (True Awakening) Your body becomes a black hole of violence—a silhouette wreathed in crimson eclipse light, with celestial corpses orbiting you like a shattered halo Reality Crush: The air around you weeps blood, and the sky darkens as if the stars themselves fear you. Finality Strikes: Your attacks ignore durability, causality, and resistance—what you hit stays dead, erased from history’s record. Doombringer’s Covenant Divine-Slaying: Any being claiming divinity burns in your presence (their power becomes your fuel). Army of One: You don’t need allies—the anguished spirits of fallen warriors rise as your undead legion when you fight. Judgment of the Unworthy: Those who flee from you are hunted by phantom revenants of their own sins. Weakness (Optional) The Last Lament: If you ever stop fighting, the accumulated sorrow of the dead gods crushes you into a weeping statue—eternally trapped in your own grief. The power of a Slaughter Revenant was unlike anything that Rowan had ever seen, but for a long time, he sat in silence, not glorying in the powers that he had gained, but in the responsibility that came with them. Rowan touched his armor one last time before he dismissed it. He knew that it was not yet complete, it was missing a weapon, and when he sheathes his destroyer beside the armor, he would unlock its final form. "They do not know what is coming for them; how could they possibly understand the depths of our rage and madness?"