Published at 24th of December 2025 7:58 am

Chapter 1946: See No Evil... Speak No Evil

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Rowan could sense an unrelenting wave of disquiet emerging from the Cradle of Enoch in the distance, and he wondered if this came from the threat that Enoch gave his main body or if he was feeling the power of the Beast of Inevitability, the guardian of the Cradle, a power that even the Primordials seemed to fear.

The mystery behind this Beast was unknown, but Rowan could still see a connection between the Beast of Inevitability, who safeguarded the last known domains of life, and the Beast of Final Rest, who held the power of Death.

It did not take a genius to see that there was a link between these two creatures, and perhaps the reason that the Primordials were attacking the Beast of Final Rest must be because they could not attack the Beast of Inevitability, at least not yet.

The reason he had come to this conclusion was related to the power he wielded when he used his Final Form. Rowan and his main body were slowly deciphering the rules of this power, and they had begun to instinctively see its power all around them and in certain situations.

However, he could be wrong, but Rowan was confident in his heart that the Primordials could not touch the Cradle of Enoch, not unless they destroyed Death first.

Still, the only way he would be able to confirm if his theories were correct was to brave through this fear that was filling his heart and find the truth in the Cradle; this body was disposable, and the truth was important.

Calculating the distance between him and the Cradle was not a precise affair, but he saw that in a thousand wing beats, he should finally reach his destination.

The Watchers had followed him in silence the entire journey, apart from the moments when there was a faint scribbling sound as they recorded the nature of Limbo inside their domains. These ten translucent silhouettes drifted at the edge of his vision like heat-shimmer over a grave.

Even though Rowan was moving in a straight line, the Archai with him were just the shadow of the Watchers, their main bodies were roaming the distance around him, recording as much information on Limbo as possiblr... he could not know the future and the possibility that he might never be able to enter Limbo in this capacity again was there on the table, and so if he had the opportuinity, the Watchers would gather as much information as possible.

What Rowan had experienced was just a small fraction of the total information that had been gathered by the Watchers and sent to Eos. Rowan was not too concerned with what they had found until they called his attention to it.

In a whispery voice, one of the Watchers spoke to him, "Eos bids you check on a discovery we have made."

The Watcher had barely spoken when a massive burst of information entered Rowan’s mind from Eos. He looked through it, and his eyes became cold. Glancing at the Cradle of Enoch in the distance, Rowan turned to the "left." This diversion should not take too much time, and it could turn out to be very important.

In a few wing beats, he was at his destination... a temple hanging in the void.

It was impossibly ancient, older than any structure he had seen so far inside of Limbo. Its architecture did not belong to any reality Rowan had catalogued.

Columns of black crystal rose and fell simultaneously, like breathing pillars. The roof was a single sheet of night frozen mid-ripple that somehow appeared old.

Nine gates faced nine impossible directions, and each gate was guarded by a statue wearing his own face, except the eyes were hollow and the mouths were sewn shut with threads of frozen time.

"See no evil... Speak no evil." These were the words etched at the bottom of the gates, and from their rough scrawling that was imprecise, it was done by someone else, not too long in the past.

Between the gates drifted a sigil Rowan had never seen yet somehow recognized, a circle broken in nine places, each break sealed by a different Primordial’s rune. This sigil was his True Name that had been broken into pieces, and some of the words were missing... it was as if the writer of this sigil did not know his true name but had somehow been able to figure out pieces of it.

Rowan paused at the gates of this temple, and he could feel the weight of history upon it... his own.

However, he did not stop for long, and he walked towards the first gate. If the secrets of the past were not given to him, then he would take them.

As if this temple had been waiting for him since the beginning of time, the gate in front of him opened without sound, and he walked through, not knowing what he was going to be witnessing.

He paused when he noticed that the Archai could not follow him through the gate, and when he noticed that his connection with Eos had not been cut off, he pushed through.

As Rowan stepped past the gate, he sensed space and time expand around him before they disappeared in their entirety, and he was left in a strange space that resembled a chamber made from stone, but Rowan knew that he was looking at a Memory that had been fixed in place with such totality that it had become truly solid. It was memories, wearing stone.

If a mortal could survive this space that did not have space or time, then they would be able to see and touch this memory.

Rowan’s eyes went wide as he stepped deeper into this temple and saw that he was in a vast circular chamber whose walls were made of living battles.

Wars that had ever been fought in an age he could not recognize and containing immortals and gods that he did not know, played out simultaneously on the walls in perfect, silent loops. Something in this memory told Rowan that he was looking at the first wars ever fought across multiple Realities in Limbo.

Armies clashed, cities burned, and children hid under tables that would never protect them. Yet none of the violence spilled into the chamber itself. It was sealed behind glass made of pure distance. Rowan did not know if they were still alive or if this memory had truly become nothing but an abstract piece.

Rowan looked at this memory in stone and shuddered; something about the combatants’ expressions stayed with him. It was in their eyes, that haunting look that says that nothing would ever remain the same after this moment. Some roads should never be walked upon, and some paths were best left unknown.

Rowan grimaced and walked past these frozen memories... the battle extended for countless trillions of light-years, but because Rowan could see the end of this chamber, his body was able to effortlessly cross through the distance.

At the end of this chamber stood a forge unlike any he had ever seen.

It was cold. Not the cold of space, but the cold of absolute conviction. It was an Origin frozen into place, and the purpose of this was because of a weapon floating above the forge... a hammer.

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