Reece had been on the path of strength for what felt like eternity. From the moment he chose this road, his life had been riddled with trials—each more harrowing than the last. Blood, pain, and loss had defined his existence, painting a picture that most mortals, gods, and even Primes could not begin to fathom. Yet, no matter how much he endured, there was one thing he could never truly get used to: the weight of his memories.
Millions. Billions. Trillions of lifetimes, each lived and relived. The sheer scope of his experiences bore down on his soul, threatening to crush it beneath the weight of endless recollection. And yet, here he was—alive, aware, and pressing forward. How? Because he had done the impossible.
In one of his most desperate moments, Reece had taken the suicidal gamble of creating a secondary inner soul within himself—a soul to balance and support his existence, to keep him sane when the toll of his regressions grew unbearable. It was a move that no mortal, no god, and few to no Primes would dare to attempt. It was the only reason he had survived this far.
The obstacles he faced were not the kind that ordinary beings could comprehend. These were enemies, trials, and existential threats so profound that even the mightiest gods and Novas—beings who stood at the pinnacle of creation and existence itself—would crumble before them.
But why? Why did he persist on this perilous path?
Reece had asked himself this question countless times. He had tried to walk away, to live a peaceful, harmonious life with his wives, children, and extended family. He had wanted nothing more than to fade into the background of existence, unnoticed, unremarkable, and untouched. But such dreams were fleeting. His enemies would always find him, and they would always hunt him.
The reason was simple: Reece's gift, Original Regression, was too perfect, too powerful, and far too dangerous to leave unchecked. His ability to regress with near-perfect memory and minimal to none side effects was unparalleled. Even after overcoming the initial challenges of his gift—strengthening his soul to withstand the memories—his gift continued to paint a target on his and his loved ones back.
Reece had considered every possibility. Could he remove it? Transfer it? Destroy it? The answer was always the same: no. Gifts were soul-bound, tied to the essence of a being's existence. To tamper with one was to invite utter destruction—not just of the soul carrying the gift but of all derivative forms of the gift across the multiverse. Destroying Regression would annihilate countless beings who had been influenced by its derivative abilities. It was an unacceptable cost.
In the end, Reece had accepted the truth. He could not destroy his gift, nor could he afford to remain weak. The only solution was to grow stronger—and to do so in the smartest, most systematic way possible.
Now, in the controlled environment of [Existence Embrace], Reece's physical body was undergoing a carefully monitored growth spurt, guided by Prima. She knew his body better than anyone, ensuring his progress remained steady and within safe parameters. His ultimate goal was to reach the peak of demigod-hood—the absolute limit of strength within the mortal realm. But while Prima handled his physical development, Reece had his own task: ensuring that his soul could keep pace.
Within the serene stillness of his golden-white soul realm, Reece floated in a state of quiet focus. From the outside, his body appeared comatose, deathly still as though on the brink of collapse. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. His physical form brimmed with vitality, the primal mana surrounding him saturating every fiber of his being.
For Reece, the advancement of his soul was just as crucial as the progression of his physical cores. In the realms above mortality, where mana grew dense and laws became tangible, a strong soul was paramount. Most demigods realized this too late—long after ascending to the immortal realms. They learned through trial and error that without a developed soul, their growth would stagnate, limiting their potential.
Reece, however, was no ordinary demigod. He had long since understood that the soul and the mana body must grow in harmony. This knowledge, coupled with his countless lifetimes of experience, gave him an edge that few could match.
To strengthen his soul, Reece had devised a unique method tied to his gift, Regression. His gift and his soul were two sides of the same coin. If his soul grew stronger through cultivating primal spiritual mana, his gift would lag behind, creating an imbalance. The result? Locked memories, fragmented timelines, and an inability to access his full potential.
The solution was simple yet arduous: increase the activation threshold of his gift by syncing as many memories as possible. As he integrated more memories, his gift would demand a corresponding increase in soul strength. This cyclical process ensured that both his soul and gift grew in tandem.
Reece inhaled deeply, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the void-like expanse of his soul realm.
"Let's begin," he murmured. "Casting Regression perk: [The One Who Remembers]."
As the words left his lips, a ripple spread across the golden-white void. The air seemed to hum with energy, and faint images began to materialize around him. These were his memories—millions of them—each one a fragment of his endless journey through time.
The task ahead was daunting. To integrate even a fraction of these memories would test the limits of his endurance. Yet, with time compressed within [Existence Embrace], he had the opportunity to make unprecedented progress.
He reached out, grasping the first memory that floated before him.
**********
[Memory: 490,768,301st Regression, VZ-571-497012, God Realm]
The vast expanse of space stretched endlessly before him, filled with stars that shimmered like diamonds against the black canvas of the void. Planets, nebulae, and solar systems spun in silent harmony, creating a breathtaking view that few would ever witness.
Reece stood on the observation deck of his ship, gazing out at the serene beauty of the universe. Behind him, Prima's voice crackled through the intercom.
"Master, we're approaching the Ulavar Galaxy of the Luhar race," she reported.
Reece smiled faintly, his golden eyes reflecting the distant stars. "Thank you, Prima."
"You know," Prima teased, her tone light, "you could do a better job hiding your excitement. It's practically oozing out of you."
Reece chuckled, though his voice carried a note of melancholy. "Meeting her is the only thing I have to look forward to in this round…"
Prima fell silent for a moment, her usual banter replaced by concern. "Master… are you sure about this? I can feel your hesitation about leaving Lorna and Melissa alone. Protecting them from a distance won't make them safer. If anything, Camila is going to give you an earful when she finds out."
Reece's smile turned wry. "Camila… She's the one I can't avoid, no matter how much I want to keep her out of this. She's a regressor, just like me. If I don't go to her, she'll come to me. And when she does…" His voice trailed off, heavy with emotion.
Prima sighed, her tone softening. "She's going to scold you like always, isn't she?"
Reece chuckled bitterly. "If I'm lucky, it'll only be a scolding."
The memory shifted slightly, pulling Reece deeper into its flow. He recalled the countless times he had tried to distance himself from his wives, hoping to shield them from the dangers of his path. Yet no matter how far he went, Camila always found him. As a fellow regressor though a derived form of his, her resolve was as unyielding as his own. She had made it clear that she would not stand idly by, no matter the cost.
As the ship drifted silently through the sector, avoiding the countless formations and defenses of the Luhar race, Reece's thoughts remained on her. How would he approach her this time? What could he say to placate her stubbornness?
"Master," Prima interrupted his thoughts, "how do you plan to get to Camila?"
Reece smirked. "There's no need for elaborate plans. We'll find the planet where her family resides, land as normal as possible, and get her out. Simple."
Prima sighed heavily, knowing full well that nothing with Reece was ever simple. "May the other gods have mercy on the Luhar race. They're about to have a very bad day."
Reece's smirk widened. "They'll survive. Probably."