Lucien was silent for a long while.
Though brief, the fragmented memories he'd seen from the Magus Goblin carried weight beyond comprehension. It doesn't look like mere recollections. They were windows into another civilization.
The monsters… they had taken a different turn in evolution. Their world was alien and unrecognizable. It's a place where the laws of nature bent under a foreign logic.
Where the Thousand Races clung to structure, the monsters had embraced chaos.
Their technologies were twisted reflections of creation. Organic machines that breathed. Living weapons. Towers grown rather than built. Everything reeked of creation untamed.
And they were up to something.
The small worlds that the Primordial Slime had created.... The sanctuaries for the last remnants of humanity and vaults for the fragments of the Origin Core. They were being destroyed one by one.
Each conquest granted the monsters unimaginable inheritance and a new piece of the Origin Core fragment.