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While one being was taking the lips of a Gilded One within THE Braneworld Observable Existence.BOOM!
THE Creature’s body smashed into the obsidian floor of THE Undefined Gaps for what had become an uncountable number of times, the impact carving a fresh crater into the already blood-stained surface, multiple bones snapping with the wet finality of structures that had exceeded their tolerance, organs rupturing against each other under the compression of a force that carried the combined weight of THE Dominion Cause and THE Bellum Cause channeled through a being whose Observable Force density made comparison to anything THE Creature had previously faced feel inadequate.
He was on his feet before the crater stopped vibrating.
"PERSEVERE!"
HUUM!
Obsidian flames erupted from his body, rising from the crown of his head and trailing from his fingertips and pooling at his feet before rising again in vertical columns that carried the deep dark quality of something burning from beneath ordinary combustion. The flames were not warm. They were ancient!
The black-gold of them moved with the specific patience of fire that had decided to remain regardless of what was done to the fuel. His obsidian crown still floated above his head, cracked now along one of its lower edges but holding its configuration, its presence above him more defiant than decorative.
He looked up at Prima Custos Ragnar.
The Gilded One hung in the void of THE Undefined Gaps above him with the easy comfort of a being for whom gravity was a courtesy he could decline at will. His body carried the proportions of something built specifically to end other things, broad and massive and armored in the red-gold plate that had been forged from his own amplified Ira, his frame radiating the dense compression of Observable Force that had been layered into his foundations over eons of power.
Around his wrists and forearms, crimson rings of Prime Cause authority spun in slow independent rotations, each ring carrying a different Cause’s signature, each ring ready to be fed into the next strike with the casual availability of weapons kept constantly drawn. His smile had not changed across the full duration of the engagement. It remained the smile of a being who was doing exactly what his existence had been engineered to do and who found the doing of it as satisfying as he had always hoped it would be.
THE Creature looked past him.
Far above, higher than Ragnar, higher than the cluster of Gilded Ones who had been maintaining a perimeter around the engagement, the battle between the genuine Relictus and the assembled Gilded response had evolved into something that rewrote the scale of everything happening below it.
Thousands of Gilded Ones now circled the Relictus in coordinated formations that covered every approach vector, the majority of them Ira and Superbius, their combined Existential Radiation producing a golden luminescence that turned the surrounding void into something resembling a second sun.
Rivers of Infinity and Observable Force surged between the formations in coordinated flows, being redirected and compressed and aimed with the precision of an army that had trained for this specific engagement across eons of preparation.
Pulses of THE Scales erupted in overlapping sequences, each one carrying the full force of Paleozoic cultivation, each one aimed at a target whose relationship to existence operated at a register that made the Pulses feel like weather rather than weapons.
Across several formations, the more capable Gilded Ones had opened direct connections to Prime Causes, and the resulting expressions carried a quality that made the ordinary Pulse deployments around them look like sparks beside sustained flame.
A few hundred Gilded corpses drifted at the Relictus’s periphery.
The battle was not going well.
The Relictus itself was titanic in a manner that scale alone did not adequately describe, its form enlarging steadily as it drew closer, its presence pulling at the local architecture of THE Undefined Gaps with a gravitational authority that had nothing to do with mass and everything to do with a fundamental relationship to existence that the Gilded’s seven ages of accumulated methodology had never been able to fully characterize through any framework they possessed.
Ragnar’s voice crashed down from above, joyful and enormous.
"Buddy boy. Don’t look up there. You can’t even get past me, so why dare dream?"
The smile widened, too many teeth, the specific delight of a being who had found his afternoon more satisfying than he had anticipated!
"I’m gonna fuck you up so thoroughly by the time I’m done with you that you won’t be able to whisper Persevere. Haha!"
BOOM!
His power rose, the crimson rings on his forearms beginning to spin faster, the Prime Cause authority within them building toward the next expression with the patient inevitability of a mechanism completing its cycle.
THE Creature looked up at him with calm defiance.
And then he breathed out slowly and closed his eyes.
He had not wanted to do this yet.
The transformation was not something he had intended to deploy at this stage of his climb. It was a capability he had been developing quietly, in the background of every engagement, in the spaces between his rises from the craters Ragnar had been generously providing, the slow accumulation of THE Primordial Source’s authority reshaping him at levels that even his current form had not fully expressed.
He had wanted more time. He had wanted the transformation to arrive on his terms, at a moment of his choosing, with sufficient context built around it that the implications could land properly.
Desperate times.
He did not have a choice.
Existence itself seemed to slow as THE Creature’s lips moved, the word he spoke not a Pulse and not a technique and not anything in the derived or structured vocabulary of either Gilded or Bounded cultivation. It was something older. One of the ancient letters of THE Primordial Source, carrying a meaning that existed before meaning had been formalized into languages.
"Exelissomai."
BOOM!
An explosion erupted from him that was not an explosion in the ordinary sense, because explosions moved outward from a central point and this moved outward from every point of his existence simultaneously, a pillar of obsidian flames rushing upward from his figure in a column that reached toward the distant engagement above and drove downward into the obsidian floor below in equal measure.
And then THE Creature began to transform.
His humanoid form, the rebuilt Primordial Architect frame he had carried across eons of climbing, began to shift at the foundational level rather than the surface level, the change propagating through his existence from the inside outward rather than being applied from outside in. The proportions changed first, his frame expanding in configurations that did not follow the geometric logic of humanoid growth but the geometric logic of something that had decided humanism was one of several available shapes rather than a fixed constraint.
He grew larger.
Not in the way that Ragnar’s mass was large, the mass of a being built for force. In the way that the distant Relictus was large, the mass of a being whose relationship to the space it occupied had shifted from tenancy to authorship. The obsidian flames that had been wreathing his humanoid form reshaped alongside him, flowing into new configurations that matched the emerging form the way fire follows the shape of what is burning.
Something gloriously bestial was emerging from what had been a Primordial Architect turned Relictus.
Something that recognized the distant titanic presence above not as an enemy but as a category of kin.
Ragnar’s smile, for the first time across the full duration of the engagement, shifted into something different.
Above them both, several of the Gilded Ones maintaining the perimeter broke their formation to look downward!