The Primordial Record

There was a long sigh and a giant ripple in creation as he made his first life, not through any technique or ability, but with his knowledge. This first step was important.

The child was born.

Yet he was the first to be born of this world and his conception was special, after all, there was no mortal flesh to be found here, and so the light from the moon was his blanket, the sun was his heart, the earth became his bones and the trees became his flesh, the first ocean that developed entered his body and became his blood and when he opened his mouth needing to cry out, the first breeze became his lungs and was the spark that ignited the forge of his life.

This concept seemed simple, but Rowan had drawn from all the immortal and mortal power systems he had ever known to create this firstborn.

The mysteries engraved in a single inch of his flesh would satisfy the cravings of a thousand Archmage for an eternity.

The birth of the child solidified the Core of the world, and his cries ignited it, bringing forth the birth of light and the stars.

Life, light darkness, erupted from the child, spreading with speeds beyond comprehension, weaving and wrapping itself into a purple-white and purple Core that hovered in front of the child.

From the distance, he could hear barks, hoots, and twitters, as a world filled with life erupted, time speeding along as he solidified the concept of a mortal and immortal.

The child slept for a million years and when he woke up, he saw that on his belly was a great city filled with mortals, and he watched and he learned, their antics making him giggle, this created great earthquakes, and the natives of this city learned of his great presence, and with time they knew how to pacify the earth below them, making the child slumber for decades at a time.

The people who were able to learn this skill became the first Shaman, as the merger between the mortal and the immortal solidified.

The concept of godhood was whispered quietly in the dark of the night, and the flames of ambition were born in the hearts of the mortals.

Since Rowan built this world directly from a Soul Origin and linked it to its core, it developed peculiar traits, in which every part of his body could grant a boon. Everything that happened was in his control and also not, and he only needed to steer the Core to its optimal conclusion.

The mortals that settled on his arms and fists became great warriors and berserkers, channeling endless might through their bodies, they constantly broke the shackles of their flesh, and they were the first to start the great wars that erupted all over his body, but life was cycle of light and darkness. Their rage served a purpose and it enhanced the merger between the mortal and the immortal. The World Core grew.

The mortals that settled on his legs became Nomads, they became the first Windrunners. Traveling around the entirety of his body and even beyond, exploring new lands that appeared out of thin air outside of his body as the World Core grew stronger.

The Windrunners showed him sights that he could have never seen as he lay there on the earth, nurtured by the Shamans, who had begun drawing strength from his body, enhancing their lifespan, and creating means to fight against the Berserkers that wished to dominate the realm.

It was a certain group of Windrunner that discovered his eyes. The Shaman kept him asleep for decades at a time, but sometimes he woke up, and those Windrunners were there to see his eyes open.

He did not know what this sight might have seemed to their senses, but he imagined it must be like seeing a vast pool appear out of nothingness. Seven among them fought their fears and braved the pool, dipping themselves into its cool waters.

There seemed to be no effect, as their bodies and talents remained the same, although they lived multiple times longer than their brethren, this alone gave them esteemed status, but the true change happened when they died.

Unlike every world he knew, Rowan had formed the base of this world from the energy that he understood the most and also the least, Soul Energy, and not just Soul Energy, he went to the roots and created it using Soul Origin, and his eyes were connected to it.

The seven Windrunners that entered his eyes died and unlike every other mortal, they were born again in the body of a child.

These seven Windrunners had achieved a strange form of Immortality, for they kept all the skills and memories of their previous lives anytime they died and were reborn.

These seven led their tribes to greatness, and slowly their nature as Windrunners began to change as time pushed inexorably forward. They saw that the Barbarians and the Shamans would not end their battle and they sought ultimate power.

Their long lives and endless wandering led them to his chest where these seven having learned the abilities of both the Shaman and the Berserker found a way to connect to his heart and they gained power, becoming the first gods and rulers of this land.

This act completed his Core. Once more, he had ventured where he was not supposed to have the ability to reach, and he had succeeded.

It should be everything he needed to finish connecting with the world, but Rowan felt that there was something missing. His instincts informed him that there was still a step.

Rowan was confused, although this Core carried a Third Dimensional Will, it was complete, and then he saw his mistake. For anyone else, this Core was perfect, because this power was theirs but also separate from them, however he was different, he could not just create worlds, he could become them.

He could not just create dimensions, the dimensions could become his body. His Core could not be like everyone else, because he could become the Core itself.

The child for the first time since his birth, opened his mouth and he swallowed the Core, becoming one with it.

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In the memory of Erohim, Rowan had no idea a tear was running down his face as he opened his hands, revealing a mass of energy that was smaller than that of Erohim but pulsed with such life and vitality, that the memory began healing itself, being subverted by his Will that began to spread over everything.

This time it was not Rowan's order that made it so, but the sight of this core drove Erohim to speechlessness.

Something shifted in creation, and reality opened, Rowan's eyes looked upwards and he saw a gigantic Steele begin to descend. Covered by lightning and fire, it reminded Rowan of the Primordial Record and when he felt the Aura erupting from it, he knew he was correct. This was an unknown Singularity!

Rowan was speechless, he had no idea there could ever be another type of Singularity in existence.

Erohim's eyes widened until they began to bleed, he screamed, his words were unintelligible, but Rowan understood him,

"No, no, this is not possible! How can you summon a World Bearer test inside my memories? This is not right, you have to be a…"

The Steele erupted, shattering this entire reality and using it as fuel to drag Rowan's consciousness into it.

The voice of the Steel entered his mind,

"Honored One, You Are The 117th since the beginning of existence to Summon a World Steele. Take your first step as a World Bearer and engrave your name!"