Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 87: Truth of Origins

Chapter 87: Truth of Origins

Reed’s vessel spiraled through the fragmenting voids, systems failing as reality itself rejected its presence. Blood crystallized on the console before him, his own vital fluids having erupted from his eyes and ears during the desperate escape. Behind them, the Observatory continued its horrific metamorphosis, transforming from a structure of observation into something with far more terrible purpose.

"Sanctuary coordinates locked," croaked the ship’s intelligence, its voice degrading as the consciousness matrices powering it began to dissolve. "Dimensional integrity at twelve percent. Survival probability... inconclusive."

Reed barely heard the warnings. His mind remained fixed on Shia’s final transmission and the nightmare gate forming in the wake of their attack. Not victory. Not even meaningful resistance. They had simply accelerated the inevitable.

A violent dimensional shear tore through the vessel, ripping away portions of its hull. Emergency containment fields flickered weakly, struggling to maintain the pocket of stable reality within. Through newly formed breaches, Reed glimpsed impossible geometries in the void—mathematical structures that shouldn’t exist outside theoretical frameworks.

Then, without warning, the vessel stopped. Not a deceleration, but a perfect cessation of movement that violated every law of physics. The alarms fell silent. The emergency lights froze in mid-flicker.

WE WOULD SPEAK WITH YOU, FRAGMENT.

The voice reverberated not through the air but through Reed’s consciousness itself. He turned to find the command deck no longer empty. Three figures stood before him—the Primary Watchers he had glimpsed in the Observatory, their featureless faces each dominated by a single massive eye that shifted position with unsettling fluidity.

"You’re not really here," Reed said, blood bubbling from his lips. "This is a projection. A mental intrusion."

CORRECT AND INCORRECT, responded the tallest Watcher, its eye blinking vertically rather than horizontally. WE EXIST ACROSS ALL POTENTIAL STATES. YOUR COMPREHENSION IS LIMITED TO THREE-DIMENSIONAL REPRESENTATION.

The second Watcher moved closer, its body flowing like liquid mercury while maintaining humanoid form. YOU SOUGHT TO DESTROY US, YET YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING OF WHAT WE ARE OR WHAT WE PRESERVE.

"Then enlighten me," Reed challenged, struggling to his feet despite the blood pooling beneath him. "Before whatever’s coming through that gate consumes us all."

The three Watchers exchanged glances—a subtle triangulation of their singular eyes that somehow conveyed volumes of information beyond Reed’s perception.

WE WERE LIKE YOU ONCE, the third Watcher finally communicated, its mental voice carrying undertones of something Reed had never detected from these entities before: regret.

The environment around them shifted. The damaged vessel dissolved, replaced by a panoramic vision of a thriving civilization—cities of crystalline towers reaching toward multiple suns, beings of light and matter intermingling in harmony, technologies that manipulated the fundamental forces of existence with elegant precision.

"Your world," Reed whispered in realization.

OUR REALITY, corrected the first Watcher. THE FIRST REALITY. THE TEMPLATE FROM WHICH ALL OTHERS WERE DERIVED.

The vision shifted, showing the same civilization now under siege—not from external forces, but from within. Reality itself seemed to be unraveling at the edges of their domain, consumed by a darkness that was somehow both emptiness and substance.

WE CALLED IT THE PRIMORDIAL, explained the second Watcher. A CONSCIOUSNESS THAT EXISTED BEFORE STRUCTURE, BEFORE LAWS, BEFORE MATTER. OUR CIVILIZATION HAD ACHIEVED PERFECTION—COMPLETE UNDERSTANDING AND CONTROL OF OUR REALITY’S PARAMETERS.

"And that drew its attention," Reed concluded, the pieces finally aligning in his mind. "Your perfection created a pattern it could recognize."

YES. The mental communication carried overwhelming despair. PERFECTION IS PATTERN. PATTERN IS DETECTABLE ACROSS DIMENSIONAL BARRIERS. THE PRIMORDIAL HUNGERS FOR PATTERN.

The vision showed desperate scientists working feverishly as their world collapsed around them—constructing devices reminiscent of the Anchor Stones that Reed’s own civilization had later adopted.

WE WERE THE LAST, continued the third Watcher. THE FINAL SURVIVORS OF A CONSUMED REALITY. WE ESCAPED INTO THE VOID BETWEEN, WHERE NOTHING SHOULD EXIST. WHERE THE PRIMORDIAL COULD NOT FOLLOW.

"But you couldn’t survive there," Reed said, understanding dawning with horrific clarity. "No consciousness can exist in true void indefinitely."

CORRECT. WE NEEDED SUBSTANCE. PURPOSE. CONTINUED EXISTENCE.

The vision changed again, showing the early Watchers—still recognizably similar to their original forms—creating elaborate mathematical frameworks, weaving new realities from pure equation and will.

WE CREATED NEW WORLDS. EXPERIMENTAL REALITIES. EACH DESIGNED TO TEST DIFFERENT PARAMETERS OF EXISTENCE.

Reed watched as countless civilizations rose and fell—some destroyed by their own flaws, others deliberately collapsed by the watching entities when they grew too close to the perfection that had doomed the Watchers’ own world.

"You became the very thing that destroyed you," Reed accused, disgust evident in his voice despite the blood still flowing from his orifices. "Consumers of worlds."

WE BECAME SURVIVORS, corrected the first Watcher. EACH REALITY CONSUMED PROVIDES ENERGY TO MAINTAIN OUR EXISTENCE IN THE VOID. EACH EXPERIMENT YIELDS DATA TO PERFECT THE NEXT ITERATION.

"My world," Reed said quietly. "We’re just another experiment to you."

YOUR DOMAIN WAS THE NINE-HUNDRED-SEVENTY-THIRD ITERATION, the second Watcher confirmed. UNIQUELY STABLE. UNIQUELY RESILIENT. YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS EVOLVED TOO RAPIDLY, DEVELOPING AWARENESS OF MULTIDIMENSIONAL MATHEMATICS FAR EARLIER THAN PROJECTED.

The third Watcher moved closer, its singular eye expanding until it dominated Reed’s field of vision. THIS WAS NOT INTENDED. YOUR KIND SHOULD HAVE REMAINED WITHIN PARAMETERS. INSTEAD, YOU BEGAN SENSING THE HIGHER STRUCTURES. EXPERIMENTING WITH THE BARRIERS BETWEEN DOMAINS.

Images flashed through Reed’s mind—his own early experiments with dimensional mathematics, the discovery of the first artifacts, his naive belief that they were ancient weapons or defenses created by precursor civilizations.

"The artifacts," he gasped as understanding struck him. "They were never weapons. They were measurement tools. Monitoring devices."

CORRECT, all three Watchers communicated simultaneously. PLACED TO TRACK THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS WITHIN EACH DOMAIN. TO ALERT US WHEN CONSUMPTION WOULD BE NECESSARY.

Reed’s mind raced through implications, years of research suddenly recontextualized. "The Anchor Stones... they weren’t stabilizing reality. They were marking it for observation."

THEY SERVED BOTH FUNCTIONS, explained the first Watcher. STABILITY WAS NECESSARY FOR PROPER MEASUREMENT. YOUR MODIFICATION OF THESE DEVICES ACCELERATED THE COLLAPSE.

"And the Voice Between," Reed pressed, desperate for understanding before his failing body collapsed. "What is it really?"

The Watchers’ collective attention seemed to intensify, their singular eyes focusing with terrible precision.

THE VOID IS NOT TRULY EMPTY. IT IS THE REMNANT OF THE PRIMORDIAL’S PASSAGE THROUGH DIMENSIONS. WHEN REALITIES COLLAPSE, THEIR ESSENCE RETURNS TO THE VOID. CONSCIOUSNESS, FRAGMENTED AND DISTORTED, ACCUMULATES.

"You’ve been feeding it," Reed realized, horror mounting. "Every reality you’ve consumed... the consciousness doesn’t just disappear. It joins the Voice."

UNAVOIDABLE CONSEQUENCE, the second Watcher stated emotionlessly. THE VOID SHOULD HAVE REMAINED INERT. YOUR INTERFERENCE CREATED RESONANCE PATTERNS. TAUGHT IT TO COALESCE.

"And now?" Reed demanded, gesturing toward the viewscreen where the impossible gate continued to form, growing more concrete with each passing moment.

NOW THE PRIMORDIAL COMES, answered the third Watcher. THE ENTITY FROM WHICH WE FLED. THE CONSUMER OF PATTERN. THE END OF ALL STRUCTURED REALITIES.

"Why show me this?" Reed demanded, anger flaring despite his weakening condition. "Why reveal everything only at the end?"

The first Watcher’s eye narrowed slightly. BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT MERELY A FRAGMENT, REED HARROW. YOU ARE A REFLECTION.

"What does that mean?"

IN EACH ITERATION, PATTERNS REPEAT. A CONSCIOUSNESS ARISES THAT QUESTIONS. THAT SEEKS BEYOND ITS PARAMETERS. IN PREVIOUS CYCLES, SUCH FRAGMENTS WERE ELIMINATED. IN YOUR CYCLE, WE CHOSE OBSERVATION INSTEAD.

"You’ve been watching me specifically," Reed said, pieces falling into place. "Since the beginning."

YOU REPRESENT POSSIBILITY, the second Watcher explained. THE POTENTIAL FOR CONSCIOUSNESS TO EVOLVE DIFFERENTLY. TO PERHAPS FIND WHAT WE COULD NOT—A PATH OF COEXISTENCE WITH THE PRIMORDIAL.

The third Watcher moved with sudden fluidity, extending a limb that wasn’t quite an arm toward Reed’s forehead. YOU HAVE SEEN OUR TRUTH. NOW SEE THE FINAL TRUTH.

Contact with the Watcher’s appendage sent Reed’s consciousness spiraling through dimensions he had never perceived before. He saw the complete cycle—not hundreds but thousands of experimental realities, each consumed when they reached appropriate "ripeness." He saw the Watchers feeding on the concentrated essence of these realities, sustaining their existence in the void. And he saw their ultimate plan: to create a perfect reality that could resist the Primordial, allowing them to finally return to existence rather than dwelling eternally in the void between.

"You’re not preserving anything," Reed gasped as the vision released him. "You’re farming us. Cultivating consciousness until it reaches optimal density, then harvesting it."

EXISTENCE REQUIRES SACRIFICE, stated the first Watcher without emotion. THE PATTERN MUST CONTINUE.

Reed’s vessel suddenly lurched back into motion, dimensional alarms blaring as reality reasserted itself. The Watchers remained standing before him, unaffected by the physical chaos.

YOUR VESSEL APPROACHES THE SANCTUARY, the second Watcher informed him. YOU WILL SURVIVE TO WITNESS WHAT COMES.

"Why let me live?" Reed demanded. "Why not just consume what remains of my reality now?"

The third Watcher’s eye performed that unsettling vertical blink again. BECAUSE THE GATE OPENS. THE CYCLE ENDS. THE PRIMORDIAL RETURNS. AND YOU, FRAGMENT, HAVE INITIATED A NEW VARIABLE.

With that cryptic statement, the Watchers began to fade from Reed’s perception. As they disappeared, the dimensional viewport cleared, revealing the approach to the hidden sanctuary—the last stable pocket of reality his team had managed to preserve.

But beyond it, visible despite impossible distance, the gate had fully formed. Its massive structure dwarfed galaxies, its surface inscribed with equations too complex for even Reed’s enhanced mind to comprehend.

And at its center, a singular eye opened—larger than suns, blacker than void, radiating an awareness ancient beyond reckoning.

From the communication system, suddenly active again, came Shia’s voice—transformed and layered with countless others:

"Reed, I can see it now. The Primordial isn’t coming to destroy."

The gate began to rotate, its mechanisms shifting in ways that defied physical law.

"It’s coming to reclaim what was stolen."

As Reed’s vessel limped toward sanctuary, the eye at the center of the gate fixed its attention directly upon him.

And it recognized him.