After days of unrelenting pain and soul-crushing agony, Varos rose from the ground, his body trembling as though the weight of the heavens bore down upon him. Red blood streamed from his eyes and ears, painting his skin in grotesque patterns. Each movement was a struggle, each breath felt a relief. He staggered to his feet, his legs buckling beneath him, but he caught himself, his hands clawing at the air as if to seize the strength to stand. Slowly, unsteadily, he found his balance, his frame now a testament to endurance.
His once black hair, once disheveled and matted with sweat and grime, had turned white. His previous blue robe, tattered and frayed, bore patches of crimson where blood had seeped into the fabric, but as he stood, he transformed it entirely into crimson ,every thread now a testament to his suffering.
Varos turned his gaze toward the spiral stairs, the dim light catching his eyes in a way that seemed almost otherworldly. They were different now. Once, they had burned with an unquenchable fire, a fierce resolve and determination that could move mountains. But now, they were calm and serene, like the still surface of a lake after a storm. There was no trace of the horrors he had endured, no hint of the physical and spiritual torment that had threatened to shatter him. To look into those eyes, one would never guess that he had faced the abyss and emerged, not unscathed, but unbroken.
Although these external changes were good but something better had happened to him from all the torture from the visions that were strengthened by Vyrinox, his soul had slightly changed and even Zarrakis and Vyrinox were not able to see it with their eyes as they could only sense that his soul has grown stronger than it was previously.
When the remnant of the Progenitor stirred within him, awakened by the intensity of his ordeal, Varos's soul had done the unthinkable. It had devoured a fragment of the Progenitor's soul power, a sliver so infinitesimal that even Zarrakis and Vyrinox, failed to see it due to their negligence thinking that everything was under their control. But within that sliver lay a treasure beyond measure: fragmented memories of an ancient, unfathomable will and a sliver of understanding of the "Law of Undying Will"
For any other Ascendant, such a feat would have been impossible. The Progenitor's soul power, even in its diminished state, was too vast, too overwhelming for a ascendant's soul to contain, let alone assimilate. But Varos was no ordinary Ascendant. His soul, tempered by unimaginable pain and fortified by rule of unbroken resolve, had done what no other could. It had claimed a piece of the Progenitor's legacy, not through force, but through an act of defiance, a refusal to be broken.
This transformation propelled Varos's Rule of Unbroken Resolve, once at rank 8, into the Law of Undying Will at peak rank 1. It was a leap that defied the natural order.
A transformation that should have been nearly impossible for an Ascendant; one that, under normal circumstances, would require countless years of comprehension and refinement.
For an Ascendant to progress beyond a Rule, they must first achieve absolute mastery over it, a feat that demands both profound understanding and relentless cultivation. Even then, this alone is not enough.
Once an Ascendant fully comprehends a Rule, they must undergo the Tribulations of Ascension, a trial imposed by the Celestial Mandate itself. These tribulations are more than just tests of strength—they are judgments, designed to determine whether one is worthy of stepping into the ranks of the Laws.
Those who succeed earn their place within the cosmic hierarchy. Those who fail? They are either broken in mind and body, cast back into stagnation, or worse, completely erased.
And yet, Varos had bypassed this process entirely. No tribulations. No years of comprehension. No acknowledgment from the Celestial Mandate. Although he wasn't aware of the tribulations as he was the first creature to access the laws.
His ascension to the Law of Undying Will was an anomaly, an act of defiance against a system that had governed the universe since the dawn of time. But it was also a mark of change.
Above the boundless Origin Ocean, where time and existence blurred into an endless expanse, Lex sat in deep meditation. The ceaseless flow of Origin Energy pulsed beneath him, weaving the very fabric of reality, yet something had disturbed the stillness.
His eyes, reflecting the totality of existence, snapped open. For a brief moment, all of creation stood still. His gaze pierced the endless layers of reality, cutting across dimensions, realms, and the barriers of fate itself. And then, it landed on Varos.
A faint smile touched Lex's lips. "The first one to access the Laws…" he mused, his voice resonating through the void. "Let's see what your future holds."
With a mere thought, the cosmic flow shifted, and his eyes reflected countless futures—endless timelines unfolding, diverging, converging. Possibilities beyond mortal comprehension flickered before him, each thread of fate shifting in response to this single, unprecedented moment.
Then, he saw it. Something new. Something even he had not foreseen. His gaze sharpened. "Interesting."
Still watching, Lex's focus shifted. His sight extended beyond Varos and landed upon two familiar figures—Vyrinox and Zarrakis.
His expression remained unreadable as he observed them, their minds working in the shadows, weaving plots within plots. Instead of seeking higher comprehension, instead of pushing toward the greater mysteries of the cosmos, they had turned to scheming, against their own kin.
Lex exhaled slowly, not in anger, but in quiet acknowledgment.
"Instead of peacefully comprehending the Laws and striving for higher heights, they waste their existence in endless plotting," he murmured.
For a moment, the thought of intervention crossed his mind. He had created them with limitless potential, given them the means to ascend beyond what even they could yet fathom. And yet, they chose ambition over enlightenment, control over growth.
But he did nothing.
He would not interfere.
He had given them free will, the ability to choose, to rise, to fall. Whatever paths they carved, whatever consequences they reaped, it would be theirs alone to bear.
Lex's focus returned to Varos.
A thought formed in his mind. "Should he be granted a merit for being the first to access a Law?"
Before he could decide, a familiar presence stirred within existence, the Celestial Mandate.
It had already begun searching for Varos, seeking to impose upon him the Tribulations of Ascension, the trials designed to determine whether one was truly worthy of stepping into the ranks of the Laws.
Lex watched for a moment, then spoke.
"Back down."
The Celestial Mandate immediately halted, the overwhelming force of cosmic judgment vanishing in an instant. Yet, it did not retreat completely, it merely stood there, waiting, awaiting further orders.
Lex's gaze lingered on Varos's injuries, the wounds inflicted by Vyrinox's interference, the strain of his forced evolution. His expression remained unreadable, but his decision had been made.
"This will be your merit."
With a simple decree, he commanded the Celestial Mandate to stand down, to withhold the tribulations from Varos. It was not out of favoritism, nor was it an act of kindness. It was balance.
Varos had already suffered enough and If the Tribulations of Ascension were imposed upon him now, in this fragile state, there would be no chance of survival. Even with the strength he had gained… he was not yet ready.
With that, Lex turned his gaze back toward the Origin Ocean, allowing the waves of reality to resume their eternal course.
The Celestial Mandate, silent and absolute, vanished from the void, only to reappear once more at the Origin Ocean—awaiting the next shift in fate.