Ancestral Lineage

Ethan in his true primord form drifted in the boundless void, his vast body suspended in silence. The ancient symbol etched into his forehead pulsed with a faint radiance, each throb echoing like a heartbeat through eternity. His breaths were slow, steady—serene, as though no force in existence could stir him. Yet within that calm, a single ache gnawed at him. He longed to return. He longed to see his family again.

"Hello there, Voryn Aetherforge. We meet once again."

The voice did not simply reach his ears—it reverberated through the fabric of his soul, resonating like an ancient hymn sung at the dawn of creation. Ethan's eyes snapped open, and the void itself seemed to brighten at their light.

Before him floated a figure. A man.

He was dwarfed in size by Ethan's massive form, appearing no greater than a mote of dust against the primord's vastness. Yet Ethan's instincts screamed. This was no speck. No accident. No trivial thing.

The being's long green hair cascaded like a river of emerald flame, his dark skin gleaming faintly against the void. Two immense black horns curled upward from his brow, polished and regal like the crowns of ancient kings. He wore a simple black turtleneck beneath a long coat, black trousers, and shoes—the attire of a man, not a god. Yet every stitch of that clothing seemed woven from eternity itself, too absolute to be mortal garb.

Though Ethan's form could rival the largest of mountains and some planets, though planets could spiral within the breadth of his shadow—this man was heavier than all of it. Ethan did not just see him. He saw through him. The truth unveiled itself.

Behind the figure stretched a vastness greater than infinity: an ocean of souls, uncountable and eternal, flowing like rivers of light and shadow. It was a cosmos unto itself, bound within the shape of this single being. Entire civilizations rose and fell behind those dark eyes; entire realities burned and were born anew with his every breath.

Ethan's chest tightened. He realized in that moment that if this man so much as blinked, if he so much as thought of it, Ethan would be undone.

Yet the man smiled, faint and unreadable, as though their meeting had been inevitable since the first dawn of existence.

"Ancestor Nethrix, to what do I owe this visit? And do you know, a meeting with death more than once is a bad omen?" Ethan's voice thundered through the void, carrying a resonance so deep that nearby planets shivered, their crusts groaning as though they might collapse.

"I'm still young, you know? Just call me grandpa," Nethrix replied, his tone casual yet laced with unfathomable weight. His smile carried the calm of someone who had seen eras rise and crumble. "As for you dying? That's almost impossible now."

"Almost means there's still a possibility," Ethan answered, his tone collected, though his golden-silver eyes narrowed ever so slightly. The light of the symbol on his forehead pulsed in rhythm with his words, illuminating the endless void around them.

"True," Nethrix admitted, his grin never faltering, "but no mortal could pose a threat to you."

"The Dragon Emperor?" Ethan's voice carried a hint of genuine confusion. Even as a Primord, he knew the strength of that being's name.

Nethrix chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He's no mortal, child. The path of immortality begins the moment one steps into the Saint Realm. Race, bloodline, lineage—these all shape the quality of that path, but once a being ascends to Saint, they shed mortality forever. From that point, they become something else entirely."

Nethrix's gaze sharpened, though the warmth of his smile remained. "And beings like the Dragon Emperor? They have walked that path long enough to blur the line between mortal and eternal."

Ethan fell silent, his massive form looming in the void. The stars reflected off him like jewels scattered across a titan's body, yet the weight of Nethrix's words pressed on him heavier than any galaxy.

"Mm. I see… I suppose you didn't come here just to lecture me, right?" Ethan asked, his massive form radiating calm authority, though his golden eyes glinted with suspicion.

Nethrix didn't answer immediately. Instead, he drifted closer and then casually sat himself down on Ethan's colossal shoulder as if perching atop a mountain. He buried one hand in Ethan's silken, smoke-like hair and let out a startled laugh.

"Woah? Such fluffiness. Are you sure you're the primogenitor of the divine race?" Nethrix teased, wide-eyed in mock astonishment.

"Come on, old man!" Ethan snapped, irritation flickering across his usually serene features. His embarrassment bled through his voice.

"I'm not old, brat!" Nethrix shot back, puffing his chest out in playful indignation. Then, as though a switch had been flipped, his tone shifted to one heavy with gravity. "Anyway… we had a meeting."

Ethan's brow furrowed. "A meeting? You and who?"

"All divine beings," Nethrix replied evenly. His voice carried the weight of endless eras. "Primordials, gods, and arbiters. We convened to discuss you."

Ethan tilted his head slightly, the glow of the sigil on his forehead dimming as curiosity edged into his calm. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"Well…" Nethrix leaned back on Ethan's shoulder, folding his arms, his expression unreadable. "You're an enigma. They've been watching your growth closely. Now that you've been acknowledged by Existence itself as the first of a new race, you represent many things at once: a threat, a blessing, a dangerous unknown, and a potential ally."

Ethan's golden-silver eyes narrowed. "So… what did you decide to do with me? I assume none of you can go against Existence's will."

"Correct," Nethrix said with a faint smile. "On the side of the Primordials? None have the desire to act against you. To them, you are kin—whether or not they've revealed this truth to you."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly. "As for the Arbiters, only a handful are tied to the Primordials and thus privy to your identity. The majority remain in the dark about what you truly are."

Ethan's expression hardened. "And the gods?"

Nethrix's smile faded into a grave expression. "Only three among them know of you. Lord Order. Lord Chaos. And…" his eyes softened for a moment, "…your wife, Asteria."

The void fell silent. Ethan's golden-silver pupils sharpened into thin blades of light, and for a moment the stars around them dimmed in response to his stillness.

Ethan's gaze stayed steady, but the air around him seemed to hum faintly. "…So why tell me this now?"

Nethrix folded his arms, his small frame looking strangely authoritative even perched on Ethan's shoulder. "Because things are shifting. The arbiters are restless — they don't like unknowns, and you're the biggest unknown since the First Dawn. Some want to observe, others… want to test."

"Test?" Ethan asked, his voice low.

Nethrix nodded. "Probe your limits. Push you into corners. Force your hand. And once that happens, the gods who don't know you yet will. Then you won't be able to hide behind the shadows anymore. Your existence will be a battlefield, not just here in Anbord, but across all planes."

Ethan's expression hardened, his jaw flexing.

"Listen, brat," Nethrix continued, his voice gruff but edged with rare seriousness. "I'm telling you this because you need to be ready. Not just to fight — you've already proven you can crush armies. No, I mean ready to decide. Decide who you'll stand with… and who you'll stand against. Because once Order and Chaos move their pieces, neutrality won't be an option."

Ethan leaned back slightly, his eyes turning distant for a moment. "…So this is why you're here. A warning."

Nethrix gave a small snort. "Heh. Call it what you like. Just don't be stupid, kid. The next storm is coming, and this time, even Existence itself will be watching which path you choose."

Ethan leaned his massive head to the side, the faint glow on his forehead pulsing once. "…So basically, everyone's either curious, scared, or dumb enough to poke me with a stick."

Nethrix blinked, then chuckled. "That's… one way of putting it."

A grin tugged at the corner of Ethan's lips. "Let them try. If some arbiter thinks I'm a puzzle, I'll gladly break their fingers while they're fumbling for the pieces. And as for the gods—" He paused, his eyes narrowing with a spark of amusement. "—tell them I don't bite… unless they ask nicely."

Nethrix groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "By the Abyss, you really are impossible."

"Impossible? No. I'm just me," Ethan said with a calm shrug, though his tone carried iron beneath the humor. "If they want a storm, I'll give them one. If they want peace, I'll… consider it. Either way, I don't dance to anyone's tune but my own."

Nethrix sighed but smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Cocky brat."

"Fluffy cocky brat," Ethan corrected with a mock glare.

That earned him a bark of laughter from Nethrix, though the tension in his eyes never fully faded.