The Primordial Record - Chapter 932

Chapter 932 Web Of Destiny

His Will gingerly touched the Berserker Clone as Rowan searched for that ephemeral connection that he had once felt. He descended past their flesh, spirit, and soul, searching for something more mysterious, something so deep inside them that most would never be aware of its existence.

At first, there was only darkness, and then his perception lit up as he saw the glowing tendrils of the past and the future of the Berserker Clone. It was like a glowing road in the darkness and his Will proceeded below until he merged with it, and then he understood.

For every Berserker clone here, multiple possible variations of their futures were revealed to him, some of the Clones had few branching paths in the future, and a couple of them had only a single branching path. This meant that throughout their lives, they stuck to a single path and they never changed, a warrior remained the same until he died, a baker never left his bakery, while some of them had dozens of branching future paths leading to a myriad of futures.

A warrior in a potential future became an artiste whose works were seen as the pinnacle of Abstract art. Another became a dreaded cultist that raped and pillaged across a thousand worlds before he was executed by Angels, and so many other divergent paths in the future. nÊw stories at .com

He could only see snapshots of their lives, but when combined, it was a vast number of experiences that were fascinating to sturdy.

It was amazing to Rowan that when he first used this technique he had not realized how utterly broken this ability was.

To be fair, at that time he was barely awake, all his actions were mostly due to instincts and if he had his full faculties, he would have never used such a power because he would be unaware that such a thing was even possible.

This present batch of Berserker Clones had more potential than the previous ones he had created and the weakest of them in their greatest possible futures were no weaker than God-Kings, and one of them amazingly reached the state of becoming a Will Holder, but the situation that led to that future was so drastic that Rowan almost blanched in shock.

If pain was a song, they heard only a single note, while Rowan experienced an entire symphony, and for every Berserker Clone, that symphony was different.

Rowan... hurt.

More deeply than he had ever thought he was capable of hurting, but he did not stop his actions, and when he was done, all the Berserker Clones were dead, and on his hand was a swirling ball of destinies–Countless potentials held on the palm of his hand. Looking at the bodies of all the Berserker Clones, he sighed and waved his hand, dispersing all of them into the wind.

Over his short life in this universe, he had killed countless people, and Rowan found it poignant that by his own hand, he made himself feel a level of hurt that everyone he had ever killed could not even imagine, even if they were all combined.

If there was ever a hell that could punish someone for his wrongdoings for eternity, Rowan had just experienced it, and not just once, but thousands of times. This experience left a scar on his mind.

Shaking himself away from this melancholic mood, Rowan brought out the Cube that held the gate to the Eye of the Primordial and he began to weave a cage of destiny over it. He could not be sure, but Rowan suspected that the higher dimensions controlled the power of Destiny and other ephemeral concepts like this.

It did not take long before the web of destiny he had spread all over the cube began to steam as portions of it dissipated, Rowan nodded as he felt an unknown weight that had been pressing over his body subsided. His back straightened and for the first time since the war ended a thousand years ago, he could breathe a bit easier.

Investigating the cube more closely, he inferred that from the rate of dissipation, it would take at least a few decades before the web of destiny was destroyed, and that should give him enough time to pursue his goals without the thought of madness hanging over his head.

It was time for him to leave the Frozen Waste.