The silence in the room lingered, the weight of Umbrazel's words clenching onto the young Primordials as they listened with utter attention. His presence filled the room, his voice carrying an authority that resonated like ancient wisdom. He slowly folded his ring finger into his palm to join the other three already tucked inside, deliberate, almost a ceremony in itself.
"The fourth realm is the Sovereign Realm," he started, his voice filled with a mix of respect and solemnity. "At this stage, the Primordial's body expands to an astonishing height of 100 to 150 feet, their very presence a testament to their boundless power. By the time a Primordial reaches these shores, their mastery over their chosen law is absolute. With this mastery, they are able to create their own territory, a domain where their will is law. Within this domain, they are more than rulers; they are like cosmos itself, wielding not just the ability to bend the law to its utmost limits but to reverse it entirely, defying the natural order itself."
He paused for a moment, the silence stretching, the weight of his words sinking deeper into the minds of his audience. Then, with slow purpose, he folded his little finger, forming a solid fist. A shade darker, his gaze turned, and he continued.
"And finally, the Primordial Lord-the realm of the legends. Beyond this, there is an expanse of power that no one, except the Ancestor himself, has ever touched its shores. What little is known is shrouded in whispers and scattered rumors, tales too faint to grasp." He waved his free hand dismissively, his voice sharpening. "But that is not necessary for you to know now. Let us move on to the true reason for your presence here.
Umbrazel half-turned, his back mostly to the young Primordials now, his right side on full display. Each movement he performed was fully under his power, yet tight, compact-like a raging tempest under control. With his right hand extended ahead of him, his fingers fanned out much like some kind of creature about to tear the very reality apart.
And suddenly his hand stopped in mid-air, apparently obstructed by some invisible force. There was a kind of pause in the breath of the room. In an instant, a vortex spiraled, whirling into life with a rhythm somehow threatening. It grew, regular in its spiral movement, into a churning spiral of darkish-purple, ethereal energy radiating a low hum, as if the echo of countless voids were carried within it.
The vortex grew larger, its edges pulsing with a purple glow that seemed to drink in the light around it. Finally, it stabilized into a massive, foreboding corridor of swirling energy, a doorway to the unknown. The air around the young Primordials trembled with anticipation, their gazes fixed upon the void corridor as though it were the cusp of destiny itself.
Umbrazel then turned back to them, commanding the stillness of the void corridor. "This void leads to a secret dimension where you both will carry out your coming-of-age ceremonial battle," he said, his voice ringing with solemn importance as he folded his arms behind his back. Nyxander and Vacuous locked gazes, both their curiosity ignited by his words as they turned their attention back to him in unison.
"Wait, you mean to say that there is another independent dimension in this world?" Vacuous asked, his voice full of interest.
"And that's where our coming-of-age ceremony is going to happen?" Nyxander added, their words intertwining with each other like synchronized chimes of a programmed system.
"Yes, literally yes," Umbrazel replied, nodding, his face firm yet calm.
"Wait," Nyxander interjected, his brows furrowed as he tried to piece things together. "How did that small world come to be? I've never heard Father say anything about it." His mind churned with unanswered questions until Umbrazel's voice sliced through his thoughts.
"As I said, I will brief you on this," Umbrazel said, pulling their focus back as if tugging them toward the gravity of his words. "This world was created after our ancestor died. He had done something magical-what he had done, no one knows-and was quickly killed. It was then that the frame of bones became the basis of this world. Although his flesh and Essentia gave birth to the Primordial Beasts and the Eternal Silk, it is also for this reason that you are here."
Umbrazel unfolded his arms, laying them across his chest. His gaze sharpened, whittling the air like a blade. "Each clan has a gate that leads into this world for entering it, and when the time to leave arrives, an exit door will appear randomly around the participants." He turned fully, his back to the void corridor now, and his posture was a picture of unwavering authority.
"There are two major things that concern you," Umbrazel continued, his voice steady but with a growing intensity that demanded attention. "The first is the Primordial Beasts. There are two types: Primordial Apes and Primordial Rhinoceroses. The highest realm they can reach is the Ascendant Realm."
Nyxander's mind raced, Umbrazel's words flowing through his thoughts like gas through a pipeline. "But… what if there's an instance where a beast above that realm appears?" he began, his question interrupted mid-thought by Umbrazel's commanding tone.
"That's impossible," Umbrazel declared as if his words had sliced through the air with a lightning strike. "For such a thing to be, the laws in that world would spurn its existence and force it to push out with much vigor. That is also the reason why you might see those creatures in our world and why we above the Ascendant Realm cannot enter."
He fixed them both with a meaningful look. "You must face and fight these beasts head-on, without any form of law manipulation. This will provide you with valuable experience to prepare for your awakening. The Essentia Crystals obtained from them are priceless assets in the Primordial world." His gaze briefly lingered on Nyxander, his expression softening just slightly. "They can also accelerate the healing of your body."
Umbrazel continued, his voice unyielding. "The second objective is the Eternal Silk-a living fabric born from the ancestor's flesh, refined by his very Essentia blood." His tone shifted slightly, as if to help them grasp the significance. "For you young Primordials to understand better, I'll demonstrate."
"Voidmark," Umbrazel ordered, his voice directed at his battlesuit. In an instant, a portion of his light-blue Eternal Silk, wrapped around his shoulder, changed and its surface morphed, contorting into an irregular head-like shape.
The transformed Eternal Silk spoke in a voice that was soothing yet otherworldly. "Hello, kids. I hope you find a long and close-knit friend," it said, the words laced with eerie warmth that ran a shiver down Nyxander's spine.
Nyxander fell into a short instance of thought, piecing together what he had just seen. "That is why every Primordial has only one unique fabric of cloth. Then, I shall get a really unique one," he said to himself, determination ablaze in his eyes as he returned to reality.
"Uncle Umbrazel, is there a means to locate them easily?" his voice was steady then, but underneath, anticipation stirred.