Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

Chapter 1753: Asmerion

Atticus’ mind was muddled as he trailed behind his father.

Asmerion, the Primordial Star of Ascension. One of the beings who stood at the pinnacle of creation, a height Atticus aspired to reach.

Such a being, what would he be like?

Atticus had felt Solvath’s overwhelming emotions, but he had never truly met him, never sat across from him and spoken to him. This star was whole and complete, a full being. Atticus wasn’t sure what to expect.

Attimax led him through the grand marble halls, up one staircase, then another, and another. They kept ascending until they reached the highest point of the building and stepped through a door. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

A vast grassland bathed in shimmering light opened up before them. A golden sun shone overhead, and the space seemed endless despite the modest size of the building’s exterior.

A table sat in the middle of it.

An aged man with a wrinkled face sat there, sipping tea. His movements were slow, his arms trembling faintly with each motion. He carried every sign of old age.

Yet Atticus froze entirely in his tracks. He couldn’t move.

There was a boundlessness to the old man, one he couldn’t fathom or comprehend. He felt like prey that had just wandered into the domain of an apex predator.

The old man seemed to notice them. He set his cup down and looked at him. Atticus stiffened. A jolt ran through him.

Why did it feel as though his entire life had just been laid bare?

"Sit."

Atticus found himself seated, a cup of tea in his grip. His eyes widened, and he immediately set it down. When had he...

He stared ahead.

The wrinkled old man was now looking at him with a gentle smile. Somehow, his boundlessness had only grown deeper. Atticus felt small. Like an ant seated before a god.

He hated this feeling.

"My child. It is truly wonderful to finally meet you. I’m glad you made it here in one piece."

Even his voice was cracked and slow, like that of an elderly man, yet Atticus found himself utterly silent, listening intently.

"Your father has been worrying himself sick ever since. Though, knowing him, he’d rather wrestle a star than admit it."

The old man cast a glance toward Attimax, who had somehow already joined them at the table and was calmly sipping tea with a straight face, as though sitting with a Primordial Star was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Attimax gave a curt nod.

"So, tell me, my child. How was your journey?"

This was... Asmerion? The Primordial Star of Ascension?

Though the profoundness he carried couldn’t be mistaken, he looked entirely like a harmless old man nearing the end of his years. Like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

He should have been capable of taking any form he wished. So why this?

"...It was fine."

"Hmm, fine." Asmerion chuckled softly and nodded. "He truly is your son, hm, my warrior?"

Attimax’s chin rose a fraction, pride on his face.

"So..." The elder turned his gaze back to Atticus. "I imagine you have a few questions for me."

"Were you responsible for my death? On Earth."

He might be a Primordial Star, but Atticus still met his gaze directly, searching for the slightest reaction. A twitch. A flicker. Anything that suggested he had been involved.

Instead, all he received was a sad smile.

"I’m afraid not, my child. I only learned of it after the deed had already been done. Unfortunately, my influence over the Zero Plane is rather limited. By the time I discovered what had happened, it was already too late."

His aged gaze softened.

"The only thing left for me to do was reincarnate you into the Lower Planes. Truly tragic. I imagine you suffered greatly, my child."

Atticus saw no sign of deceit. In fact, the sadness felt so genuine it almost affected him.

"Do you know who did it?"

"Not at first." The elder nodded slowly. "I only learned the truth much later. I believe it was an agent of Asmyr."

The Star of Ruin. Atticus straightened slightly, unconvinced.

"But why would she do that? Aren’t only the Stars of Order and Chaos involved in this war?"

"My child, if you ever discover a reliable way to understand another Primordial, please share it with me. It would save me a great deal of confusion." Asmerion gave a helpless smile. "I have no idea what goes on in her mind."

"So basically, I’d have to ask her."

"I’m afraid so."

Atticus stared. The gentle smile never left Asmerion’s face, silently inviting him to continue.

Beside them, his father leisurely bit into a biscuit, chewing as though the conversation had nothing to do with the fate of the world.

"Why do you want to revive Solvath? You and the other Primordials killed him, right? It sounds like a terrible idea."

Asmerion’s expression gradually turned somber. Then he sighed. For a moment, he seemed to age several eons.

"If only the past could be changed. Alas, neither you nor I possess that luxury." He sighed. "I was blinded by petty promises. By greed. Because of that, I betrayed a true friend."

The old man gave a faint, bitter smile.

"For that, I am deeply regretful."

"So this is repentance?"

"Partly."

"Partly?"

"Unfortunately, the situation is not kind enough to be solved by guilt alone, my child."

"Solvath was the strongest star. More importantly, he was the one truly responsible for the world as we know it. He brought everything together. He gave it life."

"But he also believed that, as its creators, our duty was simply to watch. To guide from afar and never interfere. Solvath was better than the rest of us."

His gaze drifted into the distance.

"But Primordials are not immune to loneliness. We spent eons staring into the void. Eventually, we wanted more. To us, Solvath’s rule became a chain. A chain that bound us."

"So you killed him."

"We did." He said without hesitation. "We wanted freedom."

Atticus remained silent. Even now, hearing it stated so casually felt strange.

"But even after he was gone, his rules endured. The most we could do was gather followers and grant blessings. Pathetic, really. Though most of us still preferred it to spending another few thousand years talking to ourselves."

"But eventually even that wasn’t enough for some. For eons, they have chipped away at the barrier separating us from creation."

"And now... they are finally ready to descend."

Atticus felt his chest tighten.

"But it is too much. A few followers were one thing. This is another entirely." Asmerion shook his head. "This would destroy everything Solvath tried to build. They intend to bring the world beneath them. To make it theirs. And when they are done, the balance that has endured since creation will be gone."

"So you want Solvath back to stop them?"

"I do."

Atticus held his gaze. "Even if it kills you?"

They had turned on Solvath. Slaughtered him without remorse. Even now, separated by unimaginable distances, Atticus could still feel Solvath’s lingering anger. His rage. There had been no forgiveness in his heart.

Asmerion let out a self-deprecating sigh.

"My child, I helped kill him once already. The least I can do is accept the consequences if he decides to return the favor. It is my hope that my friend forgives me. But if he does not, then that is a price I must pay."