?Inside the dead universe, in the strange dimension where the dead eye of the Primordial of Time lay, the massive skull of Erohim, now the foundation for the rebirth of the Ouroboros Serpents began to collapse, drawn into the world seed accompanied by frightening roars from the growing serpents.

In the living universe, Rowan broke through the atmosphere of Trion, his one-dimensional body began to crack open as frightful powers earned from the future, that was now in the present poured into his body, but something was different about this process because change that was taking place was two-way.

Rowan aimed to accomplish more with this spell than just to harvest power from the future and bring them into the past, he was aiming for something much more ambitious.

If he wanted to become a being who could ascend to become a Primordial and even exceed that level, then he needed a foundation that was so solid and colossal that no one else in creation could ever imagine replicating.

The Foundation would be his True Name.

In the beginning, Rowan had not understood what it meant to own a True Name, but as he grew stronger, he realized that names and titles had far more importance than was let on. Perhaps if he had teachers, they might have told him of the importance of names, nevertheless, he was a quick learner and nothing went over him twice.

During his ascension to a dimension and his battle with Caine, he had given up the titles and the names given to him by others, and from there he began to gather hints about what it entailed, and the benefits that came with it. This was the moment he had gained his freedom and was given the chance to write his story and chart the course for his future.

It would be a future that was not determined by the Primordial Record but something of his making. If he now had the ability to choose what he would become in the future, then with all the talents and abilities at his fingertips, it was either he went big or went home.

The cracks on his one-dimensional body increased and he was on the verge of explosion, such a move would shatter the entire galaxy and Trion along with it without creating a Forge to contain him, and for an inexperienced Rowan this would have most likely been the case, but he had become something much more in five years.

The explosion did not happen, instead, the silver line began to weave itself, as Rowan used a different method to become a second-dimensional being. Like a thread under an invisible loom, Rowan weaved himself into a second-dimensional entity.

His previous ascension was flawed, his essence should not have dispersed as it did. This dispersion even though contained by the Forge was what enabled tiny imperfections to be created all over his dimension, giving space for the Third Prince and other entities to teleport into it.

The true path of ascension was not crushing his one-dimensional body, but instead using it as a foundation to create his two-dimensional body.

Rowan descended past Trion’s upper atmosphere and reached the clouds, but this time he was not a line but a shiny silver page. His foundation for the future could not be firmer and with a single move, he has cleared the mistakes he made in the past.

His multiple consciousnesses were powerful, but not infallible, he had made the best decision with the knowledge he previously had, but Rowan would loathe to repeat a mistake twice.

He slowed his descent a bit, allowing the Aether that followed him to shoot down before him, but unlike before, he channeled it all in a tiny region, making sure the concentration of Aether in that tiny spot expanded to a ridiculous degree and sparing the majority of the continent from needless deaths.

Rowan began weaving his Third-dimensional body. Now that he knew what a third-dimensional body should look like, he could do it using his second dimension, and he also had help, from six very eager volunteers.

On the surface of the silver page, six tiny snakes, barely larger than threads, began to encircle the page and with supernatural strength, they began to fold the page into a large ball, and from there, a shape began to emerge from the ball… it was a heart.

As this process continued, Rowan began to meditate on the lessons he knew about names.

He understood that names were power, and this was confirmed by the Primordial Record when it told Rowan that every Title he had received on its page was supposed to give him certain perks and attributes, but Rowan’s identity had not been fixed, and so he could not enjoy those benefits.

Rowan was a bit annoyed at missing all the benefits his various Titles should have given him, but he knew he was also missing other functions of the Primordial Record that should have given him much more power since the Primordial Record had agreed to fully support Rowan if his plans worked, then he should be expecting the full benefits of owning a Singularity… that is if he succeeded.

His journey all these while had been one of self-discovery, and over time he began to find moments where something was triggered inside him, certain events that resonated with who he was, and certain actions he took that aligned with the person he wanted to make of himself.

All this new knowledge began to come to light when he freed himself from the Wills holding him bound, like a newborn baby, Rowan was now free to become whomever he wanted, no longer bound by the Wills of others in his life.

He had confirmed this speculation when the Steele had chosen to rifle through his memories when it wanted to give Rowan a name, but Rowan did not want to display his secrets to an unknown power, and he already had a name… She unknowingly gave it to him, Circe.

Now he was here to make sure she was guided to complete the process. Circe at this moment was extremely weak, but she was no longer alone.

?

The heavens fell, and Circe tried to protect those around her, but she failed. Her eyes rang with the howls of winds strong enough to carry mountains and her eyes watered with the flashes of bright lights, disoriented, she tried to marshal more of her powers, but a massive Crystallized Aether meteorite buried her and Archimedes deep inside the earth, and for a moment everything was covered by the cold hands of darkness as she sank into unconsciousness.

‘Surely this was punishment from the gods when she had harmed so many innocents with her rash actions, if only she could go back and redo the things…’

“COME TO ME…”

She groaned in pain as her eyes were forced open without her volition, her body responding to a voice, even before her mind had come to terms with what she was hearing.

Her body sprang upwards, pushing against the earth that held her bound, unerringly focusing on the direction of the voice, she began to claw her way upwards. The journey seemed to take forever and a moment, her mind still in a state of fugue, and her heart confused, because she felt everything was so familiar as if this was a path she had taken before.

“Come to me, daughter of Lightning, Frost, and the Wind… Let your Soul speak to me once more.”