A vast continent, comparable in size to clusters of galaxies, floated gracefully in the vast void of space. Surrounding this continent was an imposing transparent barrier adorned with glowing runes and intricate patterns.
The land was vibrant and lush, filled with diverse forests, massive trees, and flourishing plant life. Rivers of cosmic energy flowed through the terrain, nourishing the land and supporting the growth of herbs with immense value.
A colossal tower stood at the continent's heart, its surface covered in greenery as plants climbed its walls, seamlessly blending into the natural landscape.
Inside the tower was a vast library with countless bookshelves that ascended into the shadows above, their heights seemingly limitless and their ultimate destinations lost to the murky darkness.
A solitary, beautiful woman stood at the heart of this labyrinth of shelves, her presence so profound that it seemed to bend the air; her beauty was Otherworldly, a harmony of ancient and timeless.
Her skin glowed faintly, smooth and unblemished yet etched with the faintest tracery of runes that seemed to pulse with the universe's rhythm. She was the Primordial of Wisdom, Callisthene.
She sat in quiet concentration, meticulously recording her newfound knowledge. The words she inscribed twisted and curled in bizarre, intricate patterns, forming a script that only she could comprehend. Each stroke carried meaning beyond language—an essence of understanding that transcended mere symbols.
As she continued, a faint flicker of golden light caught her attention. The jade ornament dangling from her waist pulsed softly, an unmistakable signal. Without hesitation, she grasped it, her fingers tightening around its smooth surface as she instilled her consciousness into it.
A deep voice resonated from the jade, infusing the library's stillness with a sense of importance. "Callisthene," it urged, unmistakably the familiar tone of Luscith. His voice was steady yet conveyed a sense of urgency. "We need your help. The plans we've set in motion have faced some unexpected challenges. Your presence in the dream dimension would be invaluable. Your skills and insights could make a significant difference in turning the situation around."
She felt the urgency in Luscith's voice, and without a moment's hesitation, she vanished from the library, leaving behind her continent as she threaded her way through the vast, intricate layers of space. After days of constantly navigating the deep layers, she arrived at the place the jade arrow had directed her toward. Before her, a galaxy unfolded, its spirals shimmering and pulsating with a mystic glow. The dream laws emanating from it were as clear as crystal, wrapping around her like a warm embrace. Again, without pause, she disappeared and then materialized gracefully within a grand hall. As her surroundings became focused, she cast her gaze around and looked at the other primordial beings seated in quiet contemplation, their bodies radiating powerful aura.
Callisthene stepped forward, her presence commanding the attention of the assembled Primordials. "I am here," she announced, her voice steady and resolute. "Tell me what has happened and what must be done."
Zarrakis and Vyrinox looked at her with a judging gaze. After a moment, they put away their judging gaze. Luscith gestured his hand to her to take a seat, and as she sat, he began to tell her what they had encountered. She listened, and after Luscith finished, she said, "Listening to you, I got some new ideas." "Can you tell us?" Luscith said as a hint of hope was tinged with his voice. "It's better I show you," she said as she materialized a stone.
"This stone can merge the consciousness of two entities," she said. They looked at the stone as they scanned it, and after scanning it, they felt their consciousness having the tendency to merge. They guessed what she was about to do without her telling them more.
Kismetor and Callisthene entered the room, which Vyrinox etched with deception laws, and they sat cross-legged as the stone hovered in front of them. They infused their consciousness with the stone, and as they merged, Kismetor closed his eyes and returned to the river of fate. Callisthene was now looking at the river of fate from the perspective of Kismetor, her quirk for more knowledge acting up. She thought, " What a pity I can't explore it." As she looked at the river, greed was evident in her eyes.
Kismetor utilized his advanced ability to extend his consciousness into the threads of destiny, exploring the intricacies of future possibilities. By tapping into a specific strand of fate and employing his mastery of Destiny law, he could simulate potential future events influenced by various choices. The first simulation he encountered presented a vision of a future scenario in which an attack on Glacethor was initiated.
At first, everything seemed to go as planned. They struck with overwhelming force, their combined power shaking the very foundations of Glacethor's dominion. Yet, something was wrong.
Glacethor did not panic. He did not falter.
Instead, his icy gaze held an unsettling certainty, as if he had anticipated their every move.
Then it happened. A surge of energy erupted in the distance, and before they could react, reinforcements emerged from the frozen void—Primordials who had been stationed nearby, hidden and waiting.
It was a trap.
Their assault turned into a desperate struggle for survival. Glacethor's reinforcements struck with precision, cutting off escape routes and overwhelming them in mere moments. They barely managed to flee, but not without cost. Severe injuries marred their bodies, and their power reserves were dangerously depleted.
The vision shattered like glass, snapping Kismetor back to reality. He exhaled sharply, his expression dark.
Kismetor and Callisthene were initially frustrated by the ambush they experienced during the simulation, as it felt uncannily real. The sheer accuracy of the scenario unsettled them—the enemy always knew, always reacted and always struck first.
However, rather than succumbing to frustration, they used this setback to refine their strategies, sharpen their instincts, and push the limits of their understanding.
They ran countless simulations, each one an attempt to overcome the force guiding their downfall. By the time they reached their 70th run, the pattern had become undeniable—no matter what variations they attempted, they were always anticipated, always ambushed.
Callisthene sat in deep thought, her eyes flickering with a white hue as the Law of Wisdom fueled her calculations. Every possible path played out in her mind, shifting, twisting, and reconfiguring in endless streams of probabilities.
After countless days of calculation in the room, Callisthene furrowed her brows, her thoughts racing through every scenario they had encountered.
"What do all these situations have in common?"
There was a pattern—a hidden thread that wove through every failure.
Then, like a spark igniting in the void, the realization struck her.
"What if…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "what if the one attacking isn't a primordial… but an Ascendant?"
Kismetor's gaze sharpened as he processed her words. Without hesitation, he reached toward the Threads of Destiny, seeking out the timeline where an Ascendant made the first move against a primordial.
The moment his consciousness touched the thread, his vision shifted.
He saw himself—alongside the others, controlling an Ascendant, using it as a pawn to strike against a primordial.
The result was predictable.
The Ascendant died instantly—one strike. Absolute annihilation.
Yet, something was off.
Kismetor's vision flickered as he rewound the moment, studying it repeatedly.
Then he saw it, the crucial detail they had all overlooked.
The Origin Law did not warn the primordial against the attack. It had not accounted for the Ascendant's attack.
Kismetor's eyes widened.
"That's it…" he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief.
Callisthene leaned in, waiting for his explanation.
He turned to her, his voice calm as he explained.
"The Origin Law treats us as part of its balance. It sees our movements, our conflicts, and it corrects for them." His fingers clenched into a fist. "But the Ascendants… they are beneath its notice as they are weak to even try to destabilize the universe's law.
A slow, knowing smile crept onto Callisthene's face.
"Then we've found our knife, haven't we?"
Kismetor laughed when he heard her remark. His sharp eyes gleamed with a mix of anticipation and excitement. "This plan is somewhat feasible," he thought, his mind already dissecting the details with calculating precision. Though his tone carried a hint of skepticism, there was an undercurrent of respect—Callisthene's reputation for brilliance was well-earned, and he knew better than to underestimate her.
They instantly returned to the hall, their minds buzzing with the weight of their discovery. As they took their seats, Callisthene wasted no time.
"Here's what we'll do," she began, her voice sharp with certainty.
The others leaned in, awaiting her strategy.
"The most feasible plan," she continued, "is to use a borrowed knife to eliminate the Primordials then through the borrowed knife take the laws and essence."
A moment of silence followed. Then, Noctyra furrowed his brows, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.
"Don't tell me…The Celestial Mandate?"
Callisthene immediately interjected, shaking her head.
"Of course not," she said, dismissing the idea with a wave. "We're not at that step yet."
If they weren't using the Celestial Mandate, then what… or who… were they planning to use as the knife?
The Primordials exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from determination to a deeper, more unsettling realization. The air in the grand hall grew heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. Each of them, in their way, felt the gravity of the unspoken thought pressing upon them.
""If it is not the Celestial Mandate… then it can only be…"
Callisthene watched as the others' thoughts spiraled, their minds racing toward the most obvious conclusion—Lex.
She sighed inwardly as she saw the looks exchanged between them, the barely concealed speculation. "Fools," she said inwardly.
Before they could voice their misguided theories, she lifted a hand, her tone sharp but steady. "Stop."
The gravity of her command stilled the hall. "Do not waste your thoughts on the impossible." Her eyes swept across them, her expression unreadable. "He is not a factor in our schemes."
Silence.
Noctyra's brow furrowed, his shadowy form shifting. "And how can you be so sure?"
Callisthene allowed herself a faint, humorless smile. "Because I do not entertain fantasies."
She leaned forward, her presence imposing without force. "It would be magnificent, wouldn't it? To manipulate the Creator into becoming our borrowed knife. To twist his vast authority to serve our purpose." She tilted her head slightly. "But reality is never that kind."
Her words hung heavy in the air as she continued. "He does not move by our designs, nor will he be swayed by mere maneuvering. If he interferes, it will not be at our convenience—it will be at his will, and in a way none of us could ever anticipate. To even consider him in our strategies is to plan for failure."
Luscith exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "Then who?"
Callisthene's calm voice carried an undeniable weight as she answered, "Ascendant."
The hall fell into silence for minutes.
Uhtred was the first to break it, his expression skeptical. "How?" His tone carried disbelief, bordering on dismissal. "Ascendants are far too weak to even stand in our presence, let alone challenge us. Their very existence is bound by the limitations of time and decay while we transcend such trivialities. Even if they attacked, their efforts would never reach us—we exist on a plane beyond their comprehension."
His words were met with nods from the others, their agreement evident.
But Callisthene remained composed, her gaze unwavering. "You misunderstand."
She leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. "Although they are nothing but a Fleeting being. Their lifespans are but flickers in our eternal existence. But they are those that are special among them…?" She let the words settle before continuing. "And these ones have a destiny that rivals us, and with us as their backing, we can make them powerful enough to threaten a primordial."
Luscith's eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"
Callisthene allowed a slight, knowing smile. "I am saying that we should make the borrowed knife strong enough."
Zarrakis scoffed, crossing his arms. "Make the borrowed knife strong? A roach may dream of reaching the heavens, but no matter how high it jumps, it remains a roach."
Callisthene turned to him, unbothered. "And yet, a swarm can devour titans."
The hall grew even quieter.
She continued, "Think about it. The laws that govern the Ascendants are not absolute. Unlike us, they are not bound by singular purpose. They adapt, they evolve. And most importantly… they grow."
Her gaze swept across the room. "We have spent too long looking at them as lesser beings. But something—someone—is pushing them beyond their natural limits. They are moving as if guided, shaped by an unseen force. That is why I think that using them
Would likely succeed."
Ashrel exhaled sharply, still unconvinced. "Even if this were true, it changes nothing. They are still weak, and we are still beyond them," he said, not even entertaining the possibility of the Ascendants threatening them when they become strong enough to rival a primordial.
Callisthene's eyes gleamed. "For now."
A heavy silence followed.
The implication was clear.