The Lower Realm has gone almost entirely dark.
A full trillion years has passed, and the S-Tier civilizations have used up all of the remaining power in their Noble Grade worlds and pure white stars.
Even the physical mass left behind in the structures of these mega ports has disintegrated slowly, turning to black dust and rocks drifting through the void.
Every one of the mega ports left behind are nothing more than collections of echoing laws in the fabric of space; there is no longer any true energy illuminating this void.
Around the outer edges of the Lower Realm, bent into the fabric of space connected to the Upper Realm, there are faint flickering glyphs that form the shape of tree roots.
They are a very faint white, and they appear to be flickering around jet-black fossilized roots. The pristine white ether pathways that navigated the Origin Plane with ease are no longer present.
When I examine the laws and rewind my memories to see what exactly happened, I see that after Abby and Seraphel met their end, and devoted all of their cultivation and inheritance into this Primordial Tree, it mutated into the largest Sentinel Class Artifact ever created in this Universe.
While it is impossible to communicate directly with it on short timescales, and its intelligence is no greater than a common insect, its instincts and abilities are far more profound.
It reminds me of the Legacies left behind by the ancient Dryads in the Purple Zone long ago, creating a forest of Primordial Trees. Yet, this creation is so much greater. It is the completed form of what the entire Ancient race tried to do, create an Immortal Tree of Life.
The only key they were missing in their trials of the past were the laws of reality.
Without strength recognized by the laws, undertaking such a feat would be impossible.
Past overseers may have gathered enough of the ambient silver threads in this galaxy in order to form their Immortal Cores before the system was at its optimal strength. Yet, none of them managed to alter the laws that are maintained throughout every great cycle.
Even Noctus, the strongest Demon, who held the Origin Plane hostage for over 2 billion years, his tension on the membrane was never enough to truly alter the universal laws of nature.
Abby alone did not achieve this feat.
Even with the legacy she obtained from the Dryads, it would have been impossible to do so.
The anomaly that bonded to her soul made the contribution to push her life's ambitions over the edge of success.
It was the Last Blue Wyvern. Seraphel comes from a race artificially created by Ember using his Immortal Golden Core in a time of peril during the last few rebirths he has left in this galaxy.
As the final member of his race, holding their entire legacy, the moment of his death accounts for the Wyvern's extinction. The very law that Ember bent to create them has reverberated back into place.
Yet, at the same time, there are immense fluctuations of ether, flawless grade glyphs, over 100 billion years of condensed Advanced Primordial Aura, and the mental constitution of High Royals that have witnessed the birth of the current Overseers.
Instead of the temporary shift in a universal law falling back into place, all of this energy surges forth to mutate and adapt its presence further.
Even as the following trillion years pass, and the essence of life in this galaxy fades out into the membrane, this Primordial Tree maintains a physical form.
Its structure is made out of a strange black stone that can only be found in one place within the Upper Realm.
That is deep within the Ravine where Maria and my Avatars stand now, taking in the current day remains of this museum of knowledge left behind.
The entire floor of this zone of the Upper Realm has been replaced by flickering runes, all engraved into the mutated bark of the trunk of the Primordial Tree left behind.
All of the ether arrays and physical structures that were built to contain these artifacts have disintegrated away long ago.
There were many stone tablets, mana-based scriptures, and even pure ether-based glyph legacies that detailed the entire past of this galaxy. Every single civilization and race, whether it be 5th Class or Noble, their data was stored here.
Yet, even the finest flawless grade containment arrays could not withstand the weight of 1 trillion years. They all degraded back to low-quality ether, then unrefined qi, and finally became so thin and powerless that the particles were no different than ordinary dust.
The only containment arrays left behind are natural creations of the Sentinel that holds this dying galaxy together.
It does not shield from the passage of time, but it does physically hold all of the artifacts in place.
All of the ancient stones and creations of beings from the past eras of Overseers have met the same fate as the data collected on them. The statues, pedestals, and glyphs carved into this Ravine have all eroded and disappeared. They were never meant to last this long and have served their purpose.
Yet, there are a few large storage rooms holding strange black artifacts that have seemed to withstand the relentless passage of time.
They are the artifacts I sensed resonate upon Abby and Seraphel's death. They all have mutated laws emanating from them, echoing back through the great cycles, replaying in my mind every time I glance through them.
With a swift movement, I tether all of these ancient artifacts together and pull them into my mental storage space.
Then, look up and down.
The Green Zone is completely deserted.
All of the tombs that covered the floor of the zone have slowly collapsed into dust without the presence of ether arrays to preserve them.
Even the Fortress has fallen back to the ground, appearing as an enormous black mound of sand sticking up out from the dull green clouds.
None of the other citadels are faring any better. There is an extremely thin amount of qi in the air, similar to the density that was available on 3rd Grade worlds in the Lower Realm 1.1 trillion years ago. There is only the presence of the Primordial Tree's trunk lining the outer layer of this Zone, shimmering with glyphs. Other than this, there is no movement, as no life remains in this Zone of the Upper Realm.
In the Cyan and Blue Zones, the vast majority of the towers have fallen. There are only 12 in total remaining, standing straight up in the far corners of the zone, half tethered to the thick black mutated bark of the Primordial Tree. These last containment towers do not hold any life either, but they do have pure stockpiles of low-quality ether still left behind.
The millions of other buildings that housed entire races, and a high percentage of all life in this galaxy for billions of years, they have all crumbled to dust without the necessary energy for maintenance.
The 12 towers that still stand are directly connected to the Purple Zone, where an immaculate obsidian-black Primordial Tree's branches and leaves fill the dull purple sky.
All of the Outer Settlements and main core eras of housing Domains have gone completely dark.
Only the Legacy Domains still glow with the faint light of low-quality ether glyphs.
Above in the sky, atop a few thousand of the highest leaves up in the Primordial Tree's canopy, there are faint flowing constructs, where some of the most ancient clans and factions have managed to survive even to this day.
When I look down at my status, I read [Lv. 9,999,913].
There are less than 100 trillion system users remaining, living on inside simulated dungeon constructs made of mana, divine threads, and low-quality ether.
Our Avatars fade back into the membrane once again, and the strands of soul ties I pull at snap and dwindle even more.
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Author's Note:
If you're enjoying Dungeon Diver and want to follow Jay on his journey ahead of schedule, check out the Patreon link in my profile bio.
There's custom chapter art for every new daily upload too!
Thanks for reading:)
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