Chapter 1732: The Seed of Imagination Calling this a seed was the closest that Rowan’s mind could convey, but it was something much more than that; its shape reminded him of the time of his birth. This seed was not a nascent Reality; it was something different, and for the fact that Primordial Soul had sacrificed so much to keep it safe, even using her death as a method of hiding it only made Rowan curious. The only entity that he knew whose nature was closest to his own was either the Primordials or the Primordial Beasts; what else could there be? It was his curiosity that dragged him out of the lethargic state he found himself in, as Rowan’s eyes lit up a bit when he sent his perception over to the seed to analyze what it was. The first thing he saw was the boundary surrounding this seed. Unlike any mortal or immortal seed, it had no shell, only a boundary of what Rowan would describe as solidified silence. Observing this closely revealed that the boundary was obsidian, and it was a perfect sphere that contained its own antithesis. The sphere did not reflect light; it absorbed all sorts of physical waves and even higher-dimensional forces like hope, potential, faith, fate, fear, and pain... Without his perception, this Seed would have been invisible to him, and any immortal except for a Primordial that entered this place would have instantly perished as everything they were would be collected by the seed, without them understanding what happened or what killed them. This was a fascinating discovery; the shell of this seed was acting not just as a protective barrier but also as a way to feed whatever was gestating inside of it. Rowan walked closer to the edge of the amber pool, which he discovered was filled with pure essence of such power that it made his Ether seem like water next to it. Rowan blinked in astonishment. What he was seeing here was most likely the accumulation of essence from several Realities that Primordial Soul had painfully gathered here. ’Nyxara. In the oldest of tongues, its name was Nyxara, the First Thirst who rose against the....’ Rowan paused his investigation of the seed as this new insight flooded into his soul. Since he killed Primordial Soul, countless alien insights have been flooding into his consciousness. Most of them were related to higher-dimensional rules, but now and then, some special knowledge was obtained, and the most recent was the name of the Primordial who had taken the form of Primordial Soul, Nyxara. The name of this Primordial was not important to him, but it was the hint of the history behind the Primordials that drew his attention. Where did they come from, and how long have they plagued Limbo? Who created Limbo, and what was the connection between the Primordials and Enoch? Rowan did not know how much knowledge he would ultimately gain from the remnants of Primordial Soul, but as time passed, the size and complexity of the knowledge he was receiving grew, and it was likely that before it was over, he would have received a lot of answers. Knowing there was no use troubling his mind for what might come from the Primordial, Rowan focused on the tangible discovery in front of him. This pool of essence could turn out to be the most important treasure found here. To put this discovery into context, the entire essence of Eosah that he had been using to transform Reality could barely equal a dozen drops in this pool. Such a vast amount of essence sitting here would change everything in the future. Rowan did not know if other Primordials could store energy from other Realities inside their Origin, but if they could, he did not see any reason why they should. All of this was most likely due to the secret plan of Primordial Soul, and it was all related to this seed. Rowan focused back on the seed. His perception was of a spear with an infinite number of points, piercing through its shell, and he saw what was within. When he saw what lay inside the seed, he was struck in place, and it was only because of his impossible abilities that he had the mental fortitude to accept what he was witnessing. Within the shell of this seed was not pulp, but a nexus of condensed story! It swirled with the unwritten first Chapters of every myth yet to be told, the unsung first notes of every song yet to be composed, the undreamed colors of every dawn yet to be witnessed. It was a tiny, contained Big Bang of pure narrative potential. Like a moth to a flame, Rowan was pulled towards it, to the endless potential he was witnessing. Did this seed not have the power to remake everything?! What was the limit of such a power? If he was correct, then this was wielding the power of imagination! Rowan was barely aware of crossing the pool of essence and touching the seed. Its surface was cool and impossibly smooth, which was not surprising to him, considering that the shell of this seed was made from the concept of solidified silence. Yet beneath this placid surface, he could feel a storm powerful enough to ravage all Reality. If he were to break this seed, the storm that would erupt would be enough to shatter Reality a hundred times over. Being this close to it, Rowan could sense the essence of all things within it. The muffled roar of dragons yet to be named, the distant crash of waves on shores yet to be formed, the whispered arguments of gods yet to be conceived. It had no weight, yet it possessed the gravity of a galaxy. It pulled at the fabric of the maybe. It drew in the stray sigh of a poet who couldn’t find the right word, the frustrated tear of an inventor staring at a blank sketch, and the wordless wonder of a child gazing at the clouds. These were the waters it drank. These were the soils it sought. This seed held the power of making imagination into Reality. "Primordial Life... Primordial Soul... Elura... what is the connection here?" The power of imagination was not a strange concept to Rowan because Elura had revealed to him that she controlled the Tree of Imagination, and this power had fascinated Rowan at that time. With it, Elura became arguably the most powerful Old One beside Seed that he had ever seen. Still, she was struck at the eight-dimensional level, and Rowan could never fear any Old One due to his level of life; however, this seed was different because the waves of power emanating from it were undoubtedly at the ninth-dimensional level, reaching the realm of Origin! With his ability to make anything out of Soul Essence, Rowan had the power of creation in his hands, but his creation followed specific rules that could not be broken. Making your imagination into Reality, on the other hand, was something much sinister, because no rules needed to be followed. In other words, if this were a world devoid of magic, then this power would be considered magic! There had always been consequences to using certain powers, but what if he could use these powers without paying the price? Rowan’s thoughts were immediately fixed on the Enochian Cradle and its impressive powers that he could not truly touch without paying a great price. However, as he considered this aspect, he did not neglect the purpose of this seed and why Primordial Soul had made all of this effort to bring it into Reality.