Prime System Champion [A Multi-System Apocalypse LitRPG]

I emerged into a world that felt like the hushed gasp after a scream.

The Ossuary was a monochromatic nightmare, breathtaking in its stark, desolate majesty. It looked as if color had been frightened away eons ago, leaving behind only the terrifying purity of the void. The sky above was an infinite expanse of churning, bone-white clouds, heavy and low, suffocating the horizon like a lid on a coffin. There was no blue, no green, no vibrant hue of life. Just infinite gradients of pale grey, chalk, and blinding white.

I looked up. There was a sun, but it was fundamentally wrong. It was a pale, weeping sore in the cloud layer, leaking a cold, listless light that cast no warmth, only long, sharp shadows that seemed to pool like spilled ink.

The ground beneath my armored boots crunched. It wasn't soil. It was calcified dust, the pulverized remains of trillions of bones ground down by eons of wind into a fine, white powder that coated everything in a layer of mourning.

Rising from this ocean of white dust were mountains. No, not mountains. Cathedrals.

They were geographical impossibilities — titans of grey stone and polished bone soaring miles into the white sky. Massive flying buttresses arched over dry valleys; bridges made of fused ribs spanned dizzying, misty chasms; and spires topped with silent bells pierced the clouds like needles waiting to stitch the sky shut. It was a planet-sized graveyard, built by architects who worshipped Death not as an end, but as a rigid, bureaucratic hierarchy.

"Well," I whispered, my voice sounding impossibly loud in the thin air, snatched away instantly by a breeze that smelled of stale incense and old copper. "Distinct is an understatement."

The atmosphere tasted of dry chalk, ozone, and the electric tang of concentrated mana. It was harsh on the lungs, stinging with a density that made the hair on my arms stand up. I took a deep breath, filtering the toxic particulate matter through a reinforced lung-cycle of my Body. This place was saturated with a volatile cocktail of affinities: Stasis, Decay, and Sanctification.

A paradox. Usually, death meant rot, and divinity meant life. Here, they had formed a terrifying truce. Things didn't decompose; they calcified. They didn't ascend; they endured. It reminded me uncomfortably of the Violet Tower's oppression, but where that place felt hungry, this place felt indifferent. It was an abandoned museum of endings, waiting for a visitor to break the rules.

I exhaled, centering myself and called up my status, the blue window looking startlingly vibrant against the grey world.

NAME: Eren Kai
STAGE: 2
CORE ATTRIBUTES:
SOUL STRENGTH: S+
SOUL GATE INTEGRITY: Grade S

ESSENCE MANIFESTATION:
BODY: 678
MANA: 692
SPIRIT: 685

SYSTEM SKILLS (8/10 Slots Available):
[Domain of the Ashen Phoenix] (Mythic)
[Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil] (Mythic)
[Phoenix Rebirth] (Legendary)
[Predator's Gaze] (Epic)
[Armory of the Ashen Soul] (Epic)
[Mana Sovereign] (Epic)
[Ember's Leap] (Epic)
[Blink Echo] (Rare)

SOUL ABILITY:
[Glimpse of a Path]

Approaching 700. The threshold of Tier 7. That was the realm of walking calamities, entities that didn't just live in a world but warped it by existing.

My gaze lingered on [Blink Echo]. It was still a "Rare" skill, the lowest tiered ability I possessed. Ever since seeing my grandfather, Arthur, create a fully autonomous clone of himself, an idea had been gestating in the back of my mind.

[Blink Echo] left behind an image, a momentary decoy. But with my Spirit nearing 700 and my understanding of spatial mechanics deepening, could I push it? If I poured enough Concept into that Echo… could I make it solid? Could I give it a rudimentary program? A 'shadow-clone' that could cast spells or land hits, functioning like a localized extension of my will?

"Later," I muttered, closing the window. "First, let's see what we got here."

I engaged [Prime Axiom's Nullifying Veil], erasing my presence from the sensory registry of the universe. I became a walking void in the white landscape.

I walked for hours. The sheer scale of the architecture made distance deceptive. What looked like a small shrine in the distance turned out to be a mausoleum the size of a city block, looming over me with gargoyles carved from fossilized leviathan bone.

As the weeping sun began to set, the true strangeness of the Ossuary revealed itself. Night didn't fall here; it rose from the cracks in the ground. Shadows lengthened, turning from grey to ink-black. And in the sky, the celestial horror began.

Seven moons appeared.

They weren't round. They were shattered crescents, jagged fragments of celestial bodies that hung frozen in orbit, glowing with a sickly, pale-green luminescence. They looked like broken teeth in the mouth of the dark, weeping a necrotic light onto the world below.

Under the light of the seven broken moons, the dust began to move.

A tremor vibrated through the calcified ground, traveling up through the soles of my boots.

Thirty yards to my left, a massive mound of bones exploded.

A creature dragged itself into the green light, clicking and hissing. It was a centipede made of fused human spines, easily forty feet long. Its many legs were sharpened femurs ending in golden, bladed tips. Its head was a nightmare cluster of a dozen skulls fused together into a helmet, glowing with cold, holy fire from the eye sockets.

High Tier 6. A beast that would be a catastrophic threat back on Earth, needing all of Bastion working together to take down. Here, it was a scavenger digging in the trash.

The Crawler chattered its mandibles, a sound like dry sticks snapping in a quiet room. It couldn't see me through the Veil, but it sensed a disruption in the stillness — a foreign heartbeat in its graveyard.

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It reared up, the cluster of skulls igniting with brilliant golden beams that swept the area like lighthouses.

The beam passed over a massive boulder near me. Instantly, the grey stone flashed white. Calcified. Petrified. It was a ray of accelerated Stasis.

"Let's test the engine," I whispered, a smile touching my lips.

I dropped my Veil for a heartbeat, letting my Domain flare out like a challenge.

The Crawler shrieked — a sound of grating stone on metal — and lunged. It moved with terrifying speed for something so ungainly, becoming a blur of rattling bone and golden light, closing the distance in a second.

[Ember's Leap].

I vanished, reappearing ten feet in the air, directly above the beast's flank. As I teleported, I triggered [Blink Echo].

A ghostly image of myself remained on the ground where I had just been. The Crawler, unable to adjust its momentum, slammed its scythe-like legs into the Echo. The image shattered into motes of light, but for a split second, it had tactile resistance.

Interesting. It's denser than before.

I was falling now, directly toward its segmented spine. I reached into the [Armory of the Ashen Soul]. I summoned a warhammer formed of solidified flame and nebulae and slammed it down on the creature's back.

The impact was thunderous. The spine segment beneath me didn't just break; it detonated. The force of my physical strength combined with the weapon's compressed weight shattered the creature's carapace.

The Crawler shrieked in agony, thrashing wildly. Its tail whipped around, glowing with that petrifying golden light.

I summoned my Domain but didn't expand the sphere. Instead, I concentrated it, wrapping it around the head of the hammer. I injected the concept of 'Entropy' directly into the creature's wound.

The white bone turned grey, then black, then crumbled into dust. The necrosis spread instantly from the impact point, turning the majestic fused spine into falling powder.

The Crawler's golden eyes flickered, the holy preservation magic warring with my entropic will. It tried to re-knit itself, the gold light pulsing, but my Will was heavier.

[Ashen Edict: Unravel], I commanded.

At the same time, a beam of concentrated, blinding white plasma exploded from my free hand, drilled point-blank into the skull-cluster head.

The plasma wasn't just heat; it was kinetic violence. The skulls vaporized. The beast's connection to the Divine mana was severed instantly.

The forty-foot horror collapsed, twitching once before dissolving into a pile of non-animated bones.

I landed softly on the dust, dismissing the hammer.

I moved on, letting the primal essence of the kill seep into me, warming the chill of the bone-fields.

For two more days, I traversed the Ossuary. The landscape became more surreal. I crossed a canyon where the wind blowing through hollow stalactites created a maddening, beautiful melody that tried to charm me into walking off cliffs. I fought 'Weeping Willows' — trees made of white marble that wept actual tears of caustic holy water.

On the third day, I encountered a wanderer.

He stood on a bridge made of a massive ribcage spanning a white void. A knight encased in rusted, baroque plate armor, easily seven feet tall. He held a flamberge — a wavy-bladed greatsword — that hummed with a necrotic curse so potent the air around it turned grey.

My Gaze identified it as a Knight of the Hollowed Covenant. Peak Tier 6.

He didn't shriek. He didn't charge mindlessly. He saluted.

Then he blurred.

It was a duel of skill. He was faster than the Crawler, a master swordsman who had practiced for a thousand years in the dark. His blade wove webs of necrotic starlight, trying to bypass my Mana shields.

I met him blade for blade, summoning my own sword from my Armory. Sparks of gold and black flew as we danced across the rib-bridge. He was magnificent. A testament to an ancient lineage of swordsmen.

But he was stagnant. He repeated patterns. He fought perfectly, but he couldn't adapt to new variables.

I feinted, using [Blink Echo] to leave a stationary target. As his blade bisected the image, I stepped in from his guard, ignoring the reach of his sword, and placed a hand on his chest-plate.

I dumped a localized supernova's worth of heat into his freezing cold armor. The laws of thermodynamics took over. The metal groaned, warped, and shattered.

He stumbled back, his form breaking. I ended it with a thrust to the helmet slit. He dissolved into white mist, his sword clattering to the ribs.

As I looted the core — a jagged piece of bone that felt like ice — I felt it.

A pull.

It wasn't a magnetic force or a physical drag. It started as a subtle vibration in my sternum, resonating perfectly with my mana core. It wasn't the malicious, predatory hunger of the Violet Tower, which had felt like hooks in my skin.

This felt… melodic.

It was a harmonic frequency. A hum. It sounded like a choir singing a single, sustained, perfect note from miles away. It bypassed my ears and resonated directly in my mind.

Come. Read. Learn.

I paused, my boots sinking slightly into the dust. The seven moons overhead seemed to glare down judgmentally.

I checked my surroundings. The terrain ahead descended into a deep, circular basin filled with particularly dense fog.

"Paranoia is a virtue," I reminded myself.

I maximized my Veil again, dumping extra mana into it to dampen not just my visuals but my conceptual weight. I became lighter than air, silent as a thought and followed the hum.

It led me deeper into the basin, past shrines that had collapsed eons ago under the weight of their own sanctity. The sound grew louder, warmer. It felt inviting, like the smell of a hearth fire on a winter night.

Finally, I crested a ridge of crushed pelvises and saw it.

In a perfect circular crater, surrounded by the jagged, ruinous mess of the bone-city, sat an anomaly.

A pristine, domed structure.

It was made of smooth, white alabaster and inlaid with veins of pure gold. It was untouched by the dust, unmarred by the ages. It glowed with a soft, internal luminescence that pushed back the green moonlight.

The entrance was a single, massive golden gate, easily thirty feet tall, inscribed with glyphs that seemed to flow like liquid mercury.

There were no guards. No Crawlers scuttling in the shadows. The area for five hundred meters around it was clean, polished stone.

The hum was emanating from inside. It was a physical sensation of welcoming warmth against my mental shields.

I crouched in the shadow of a gargoyle, studying the dome.

It seemed something like a library? Or a vault of memories?

The urge to walk down there was incredibly strong. A compulsion to just knock on the door. To ask to come inside.

I narrowed my eyes. The warmth felt engineered. It felt… tailored. Too perfect for this hellscape.

I looked at the gate again. My [Predator's Gaze] slid off the gold. It couldn't penetrate the interior. That alone was a warning sign.

I sat back against the cold stone of the ridge. The temptation was tangible, a hook in my curiosity.

But I remembered the screams of the frozen people. I remembered the feeling of being judged by a System that saw me as a battery.

I wasn't going to walk into a "Cognitive" dungeon blind, arrogance was a risk I couldn't take.

I centered myself, breathing in the chalky air, and reached deep into my soul, grasping the golden thread of my ultimate contingency.

[Glimpse of a Path].

My perspective shifted. The world around me remained, but my consciousness projected forward into the immediate future.

In the vision, I stood up from my hiding spot. I dropped the Veil. My armor glinted in the moonlight.

I walked down the slope, the crunch of my boots loud in the unnatural silence. The feeling of the "pull" intensified with every step, becoming a euphoric rush.

I reached the golden gate. It was seamless.

I placed my armored hand against the metal.

"Open," I commanded.

The gate didn't creak. The gold simply dissolved into mist, revealing a blindingly bright interior.

I stepped across the threshold, into the light.