"How is ascent achieved?" Aevor demanded, his voice a low, perfectly controlled tremor.
The old man, his robes whispering against the stone, gave a slow, dry smile. "By proving you are fit to wield the concepts that build this world, silver hair. You must first understand what you are about to destroy."
"Now, the true nature of the waters below," the old man continued, his ancient voice taking on the deep, resonant thrum of the Pillar. "You stated that this environment ignores external laws. That is because the basic building blocks here transcend what you would call dimensionality."
He leaned forward, his sunken eyes locking onto Aevor's crimson ones.
"Your Earth-based soul only comprehends three spatial dimensions. But these atoms... they do not just exist in a dimension; they contain them. Each one is a singularity of pure conceptual mathematics. A standard atom on your world is a nucleus orbited by electrons. Here, the 'nucleus' is the entire spatial manifold of a universe—a boundless geometry of infinite dimensions tightly curled up and compressed into a single, indivisible point. That is what you are sensing: the simultaneous existence of all dimensional possibilities compacted into a single building block."
The old man gestured to the dark water.
"And within each of those dimensional manifolds resides the concept of possible worlds. The electron shell of these atoms is not a charge; it is an infinite cascade of probability. For every decision, every quantum collapse, every potential event that could occur across all those contained dimensions, an entirely new reality is instantly spawned. When I say 'world within world,' I mean exactly that: Inside a single atom are infinite realities, each one a unique history and future, all existing at once, yet non-interacting."
He gave a dry, knowing cough. "They are not just atoms; they are the entire Multiversal Principle encapsulated in a single, minuscule vessel. The true foundation of Eryndal is built upon this conceptual paradox."
Aevor's analytical mind processed the data: boundless dimensions, infinite timelines, all compressed and contained. The threat was not physical, but ontological.
"The Pillar is merely the shell. The Ocean is the core. And if you are here to ascend, you must navigate that cascade of unending creation. Your objective is not to master a physical technique, but to prove your command over conceptual elimination."
The old man's voice sharpened, becoming a cold, crystalline directive: "To ascend, Aevor Vaelgorath, you must destroy ten of these conceptual atoms."
He pointed to a single, infinitesimally small, yet distinctly glowing mote of gold energy suspended just above the Infinite Ocean. It pulsed once, a microscopic, silent supernova.
"Not with mere force, but with the utter erasure of their complexity—the complete, simultaneous annihilation of the infinite dimensions and all the possible worlds they contain. You must erase a multiverse, ten times over. You have the Hyperion Mirror. It can reflect and perfect, yes? Now, you must turn that perfection into oblivion. Destroy that one to begin."
Aevor's crimson eyes snapped to the glowing gold mote. It was a target of impossible density. He understood the fundamental physics of his new world: to destroy the atom was to destroy a concept; to destroy the concept was to rewrite reality.
He did not hesitate. His pale hand, perfectly steady, extended toward the atom. Luna, the little white dragon, shifted slightly against his neck, the symbiotic aura around him flaring with expectant heat.
Aevor did not wait for an attack to reflect. He used his command over the Hyperion Mirror's underlying principle—conceptual perfection—and twisted it into an ontological demand. The energy did not flow out of him, but flowed around him, drawing on the limitless kinetic potential of his synched temporal frequency.
Perfection. The thought was cold and absolute. The perfect state of non-existence for this object.
A wave of pure, dark conceptual energy, not a blast but a momentary void in the surrounding reality, reached out. It wasn't the emerald lance of the Dragon Hybrid, but a perfected, Hyperion-amplified wave of negation. It bypassed the energy of the atom, ignored the dimensional shell, and struck the core concept of existence that held the infinite worlds together.
The result was silent and absolute.
The golden mote did not explode, compress, or dissipate. It simply vanished.
In the space where it had been, a single, sharp sound echoed—the sound of every timeline, every dimension, every possible version of a universe being simultaneously redacted from history. Aevor felt a momentary, searing headache—the sensation of infinite information being forcefully collapsed into zero.
Luna let out a tiny, high-pitched chirp against his neck, a rush of stabilizing, symbiotic warmth flowing into Aevor's core, immediately clearing his mind. The tiny dragon was absorbing and filtering the raw conceptual feedback.
The old man nodded, his smile widening into something predatory.
"One. You have successfully erased one-tenth of your required burden. A clean shot, silver hair. You did not merely destroy the container; you nullified its right to contain."
He pointed a skeletal finger to the Abyss, where another glowing mote—this one a deep, unstable sapphire—had risen from the water.
"Nine to go. And they will not all be so simple. Now, Aevor Vaelgorath, how do you intend to approach the blue one?"
Aevor's crimson eyes remained fixed on the sapphire mote, his analytical focus instantly rejecting the impulse to repeat the previous action. The old man's warning—"they will not all be so simple"—was a sufficient variable to mandate caution. His task was to eliminate ten specific concepts to facilitate his ASCENSION from the Infinite Ocean that contained infinitely more atoms.
"What is the nature of the sapphire?" Aevor asked, his gaze unwavering. He needed the conceptual blueprint of the target before attempting the kill.
The old man chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "The nature? Ah, that is the fun of it. The first atom, the gold one, represented pure Existence—a foundational, singular concept. It was easy to annul its right to be. The sapphire, however…"
He extended his skeletal hand toward the pulsing blue mote, causing the darkness of the Infinite Ocean to writhe slightly.
"The sapphire represents the concept of Causality. Within its infinite dimensions are worlds that are not only realized but interconnected through an eternal web of cause and effect. To destroy it is not just to erase its existence, but to risk conceptual backlash—a cascade of paradox that will fight your erasure by rewriting the history of your own attempt."
Aevor processed the terrifying new layer of complexity. The atom was a feedback loop; destroying it meant the consequences would attempt to rewrite the cause of its destruction, potentially erasing Aevor from the Pillar, or even from the moment he arrived in Veridian.
"Its defense is temporal."
"Precisely," the old man confirmed, nodding slowly. "Your Hyperion Mirror is based on Perfection—the ultimate copy and counter. But if the target itself can perfect its defense by retroactively preventing your attack, your perfection becomes obsolete."
Aevor paused. The solution could not be in brute force, but in a conceptual override. Luna, sensing the immense, theoretical danger, stirred and let out another tiny, anxious chirp, the symbiotic aura around Aevor's neck heating up.
The Mirror reflects the perfect counter.
The crimson eyes narrowed as Aevor found the flaw.
"If the sapphire's defense is to rewrite the cause, then the Mirror must reflect the perfect cause of its Unmaking," Aevor stated.
He lifted his hand again, but this time, he didn't aim at the atom. He aimed the conceptual power of the Hyperion Mirror at the moment of contact between his power and the sapphire atom, one second in the future.
Twist the function.
The Hyperion power did not attempt to negate the atom's existence. Instead, it was used to perfectly reflect the atom's own Causality defense back into the future, creating a logical loop.
The dark energy of negation flared. It struck the sapphire mote, and for a terrifying, agonizing moment, nothing happened. The light of the sapphire simply flared, waiting for its paradox to activate.
Then, the flaw in its logic was exploited. The atom's temporal defense, perfectly mirrored, saw Aevor's attack before it was launched, and attempted to retroactively prevent it. But what it prevented was the reflected version of its own defense, causing a cascading logic failure.
The sapphire atom did not vanish. It dissolved.
It collapsed inward, not with the sound of erasure, but with a complex, silent implosion. The sapphire light was replaced by a brief, intricate kaleidoscope of impossible timelines snapping shut, one after the other, an entire concept of cause and effect folding in on itself.
Luna's symbiotic energy surged again, steadying Aevor's mind against the mental whiplash of observing the death of infinite histories.
The old man's smile was gone, replaced by a look of ancient, impressed surprise.
"Two," he breathed. "You countered Causality with Perfected Paradox. A most elegant destruction. You have eight more conceptual burdens to eliminate, and your next target awaits."
From the Infinite Ocean, a new mote of light rose: an intense, vibrating Emerald.
"The Emerald atom," the old man announced, his voice regaining its unsettling cheer. "This one is the concept of Identity. Within it are all the possible versions of every being in Eryndal. To attack it will be to face the infinite, perfected shadows of yourself. How will you destroy an atom whose defense is the perfect, necessary flaw of your own being?"
Aevor did not move. He was a creature of flawless analysis. The old man's question was a logical equation.
"The nature of the flaw is irrelevant," Aevor stated, his crimson eyes focused on the vibrating Emerald mote. "A perfect shadow is still a reflection. A reflection requires a surface."
"Elaborate, silver hair."
"The Sapphire atom was countered by Perfected Paradox against Causality," Aevor explained. "The Emerald atom, by embodying Identity, attempts to defeat me through its defense—projecting an infinite iteration of my flaws to negate my current state."
He lifted his pale hand, but instead of launching an attack, he channeled the raw, non-perfected kinetic energy of the Pillar's dimensional frequency. This energy was rough, volatile, and imperfect.
The Emerald atom, sensing the aggressive probe, instantly responded.
A chorus of silent, crimson-eyed figures materialized in the air around Aevor. They were all him: Aevor Vaelgorath. One was armored, one was a wizened scientist, and one was a knot of exhaustion in a chair—his original, quiet self.
The conceptual pressure of ego-crush slammed into him: "You are an anomaly. You are a vessel. You are a memory void. Your existence is a flaw."
Luna let out a tiny, high-frequency shriek, the symbiotic aura fighting the onslaught of contradictory selves.
Aevor ignored the mental noise. He reached inward for the fundamental Hyperion Core that generated the Mirror. The Mirror's purpose was Perfection.
What is the perfect flaw?
Zero.
Aevor consciously channeled the raw essence of his displacement—the flaw of being a memory-voided soul in an impossible vessel. He did not fight the shadows; he embraced the truth of his current, empty state. His current identity was a weapon, not a history.
He commanded the reflection to not merely negate the atom, but to force the atom to Perfectly Reflect its own Flaw.
The Emerald atom was instantaneously overloaded. The infinite versions of Aevor's Identity were forced to perfectly reflect each other, creating a logical loop of infinite, identical, self-canceling concepts. The identity collapsed into a Zero State.
The shadows vanished. The Emerald mote imploded without sound or light, leaving behind only a brief, geometric ripple in the air where infinite parallel selves had once existed.
"Three," the old man breathed, looking genuinely shaken. "You weaponized the paradox of the Zero State. Impossible."
The old man straightened, recovering his composure. From the Abyss, a new atom rose: a dark, swirling Onyx. It looked less like an atom and more like a captured piece of the Infinite Ocean itself.
"The Onyx atom represents Entropy," the old man announced. "The inevitable decay of all things. Its defense is to accelerate the decay of any energy aimed at it. Attack it, and your power will instantly revert to nothingness, forcing your current form into an accelerated collapse. How will you destroy inevitable destruction?"
Aevor Vaelgorath looked at the Onyx atom. He had neutralized Existence, Causality, and Identity. The next conceptual burden was Entropy.
"The Onyx atom represents Entropy," the old man had announced. "Its defense is to accelerate the decay of any energy aimed at it. Attack it, and your power will instantly revert to nothingness, forcing your current form into an accelerated collapse. How will you destroy inevitable destruction?"
Aevor processed the parameters. A conventional attack from the Hyperion Mirror—even its perfected negation—would be subjected to accelerated decay and turn into dust before it reached the target. A temporal counter, like the one used on the Sapphire atom, would fail because Entropy doesn't rely on linear time; it relies on the absolute certainty of decay, a concept that exists regardless of time.
He needed to change the fundamental law of the atom itself.
The flaw is the concept itself.
Aevor had no history or emotion, only function. He had no attachment to his current abilities, making the application of Emanation of Origin effortless. He reached not for the Mirror, but for the boundless creative power at his core, the ability to make ideas into absolute reality.
"The concept of decay requires that something exists to be destroyed," Aevor stated. "I will redefine the concept of Entropy itself."
He focused his will entirely on the Onyx atom. He didn't emit energy; he issued an ontological demand that resonated with the very fabric of existence.
De-Creation
The dark, swirling Onyx atom pulsed violently, sensing the conceptual intrusion. Its defense system—the acceleration of decay—whipped into action, attempting to dissolve Aevor's very thought process and even the conceptual demand he was generating.
But Emanation of Origin bypassed the defense entirely. It struck the atom at the level of its primal definition, redefining its core conceptual law.
Let the law of this atom be Absolute Stasis.
The Onyx atom instantly transformed. The swirling darkness solidified into a shell of perfect, immutable platinum. It no longer radiated decay, but the impossible warmth of Absolute Stasis—a boundless field of perfect, unchangeable existence that resisted any growth, reduction, or modification. It was a perfect, frozen concept, immune to all forms of decay or change.
"It has become Perfection in Creation," the old man whispered, sounding horrified. "It will endure until the end of all possible worlds."
Now, Aevor deployed the Hyperion Mirror. He didn't attack the platinum atom; he attacked the concept of its newly imposed Absolute Stasis itself.
The Hyperion Mirror reflects the Perfected Negation of the concept of Absolute Stasis.
The dark, flawless wave of negation surged forward. It struck the Absolute Stasis of the platinum atom. Since the Mirror's power was a perfected version of non-existence, it was the perfect logical counter to a concept defined by its absolute inability to change or cease to exist.
The atom collapsed instantaneously, not into dust or a void, but into a brief, violent flash of Absolute De-Creation. The platinum shell fractured, and the resultant energy was not an explosion, but a complete, conceptual unraveling. It was the sound of a perfect sculpture being un-made, every atom retreating to a state before its conception.
Luna settled down, the symbiotic warmth reassuring Aevor.
"Four," the old man said, his voice now flat, devoid of its initial amusement. "Emanation of Origin. You have not merely manipulated concepts; you have rewritten their fundamental laws. A power beyond comprehension."
From the Infinite Ocean, a fourth atom rose, radiating a frantic, shifting Violet light. It did not pulse steadily like the others, but flickered rapidly, constantly shifting its size and location by infinitesimal degrees.
"The Violet atom," the old man announced, regaining a thread of his dry composure. "This one is Probability. Within it are worlds where all things are possible, and its defense is that it is constantly existing in infinite, unobserved states. To target it is to target nothing, because for every state you lock onto, the atom already exists in an infinite number of others, where it was never targeted at all. How will you destroy a target that is defined by its refusal to be defined?"
Aevor looked at the old man, his crimson eyes focused on the remaining atoms in the Abyss. He had five done; he needed ten.
"I have my weapon," Aevor stated, reaching inward for the power of Emanation of Origin. He manifested the ultimate conceptual law, and with a soundless tear in reality, Aetherius: End of All descended, its edge radiating void and light.
Aevor grasped the hilt, the Supreme Resonance flowing through him. He pointed the blade at the remaining atoms in the dark chasm.
"Where are the others, and what do they represent?" Aevor demanded.
The old man, mesmerized by the sword, obeyed. "The Violet is Probability... next is the Yellow-Green for Temporal Flow... the White for Thought... the Red for Emotion... the Black for Form... and the final one, the Pure Nexus of all ten—that one is Consciousness."
As the old man spoke the last name, Aetherius executed its absolute, autonomous will.
The sword did not swing. A pulse of Omni-Narrative Severance exploded from the blade, striking the remaining six conceptual atoms simultaneously, severing their existence from the narrative of reality itself.
Probability (Violet) vanished as its conceptual framework was deleted.
Temporal Flow (Yellow-Green) was utterly removed from its timelines.
Thought (White), Emotion (Red), and Form (Black) were annihilated as abstract ideas.
The Pure Nexus (Consciousness) atom, the final burden, was simply erased from being, without resistance.
Seven, eight, nine, ten. Ten atoms were erased.
The old man collapsed against the stone, staring at the empty space where the atoms had been. Aetherius had rendered the test irrelevant.
"Ten," the old man whispered, his body trembling as his robes turned to dust. "You didn't pass the test, silver hair. You abolished the necessity of the test."
A deep, violent tremor shook the entire Pillar. The ASCEND directive in Aevor's mind transitioned from a command to a final, absolute truth.
"It is complete," Aevor stated, his crimson eyes glowing with the ultimate knowledge of the sword. He looked down at the old man. "Where does the ascent begin?"