Chapter 169: Idolatry & Chapter 170: Symphonian

Author's note: I just hit a million views on Royal Road and posted about it here as well as in my story: https://www.royalroad.com/forums/8629

Chapter 169: Idolatry

If Walker hadn’t accelerated time so much, he’d never have completed the work within his soul before Ra’jin made it to Sonata. He knew it was a cheat. A way of preparing himself for the battle that gave him an unfair advantage. But he never questioned himself in its use. 

Strands were a tool, and one he’d use to eek out any extra chance at victory. Not to mention, Ra’jin was likely thousands of years old, while Walker had only left the pre-one-hundreds a short distance behind. All things being fair, a little borrowed time was the least he could give himself to balance out the battle.

Surprisingly, slipping in and out of his Metaphysical realm was as fast and easy as breathing now that he had the hang of it. He’d checked on Ra’jin’s progress multiple times now, seen the souls of his Symphonians being devoured one at a time. Seen that chasm deep within expand as he tried to validate the extra time he was taking on. 

Though despair struck him each and every time he exited, he’d also seen the Anti-Godeater at work. A green line had begun to spread on an unerring course from front to back of the massive creature. The only reason Ra’jin was still able to take his people at all was due to his sheer size. 

It took longer to burn the hated system out. 

So while the Anti-Godeater did its work, he would continue to do his own.

Walker slipped back into his metaphysical world and took a look around. He couldn’t smile, as the view of his people approaching the monster outside didn’t allow for happiness to reside within, but he knew he was doing good work here. With each structure, each piece of nature that he formed, he felt a rebounding increase in the strength of his soul. Like he was building it up to something. Something big.

Mountains filled the far distance, cool blue caps residing at the top to remind him of California. An ocean had sprung up, with many non-dolphinlike creatures filling its vast expanse. There were even streets across the ground, with the famed adobe houses of Santa Barbara sprinkled like decorations across the landscape. Though unlike his hometown, he’d given its citizens big yards and comfortable patios.

Ghosts, memories of people and animals he’d known in his life, walked along the street, acting out the day-to-day lives they’d once had. The Earth as he knew it may be gone, but that didn’t mean it was forgotten. A piece of it would live within him as long as he continued to exist. It was only a facsimile, but nonetheless, the Earth lived.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling like something was missing. 

A ghost that looked just like Matt walked by, and Walker felt his heart lurch. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground, his heart pounding as his oldest friend strolled by with a pretty girl beside him. Amidst the sound of his chest beating a rhythm, Walker felt sweat break out across his body, akin to a panic attack. 

It took him longer than he’d like to admit to get control of himself after that. He hadn’t seen Matt in such a long time; his face had thrown him for a terrible loop. 

The ghost was oblivious of the trouble it’d caused, walking around with a young woman Matt had dated when they were younger. It was good to see his face, even if it hurt him to know he’d probably never see the real thing again. Walker looked around, wondering if he’d see another ghost that would cause the same reaction, but blessedly, he was alone for the moment.

He sat up, trying to figure out what was wrong. It was as if a piece of him was missing. His second mind quested out in search of what that might be as the first continued to build his metaphysical world.

Unlike when using the Landmass system, everything here was done purely with the power of the soul. He assumed that the creation of a metaphysical world would take years for normal Primordials, but after his Primigenial tempering and the use of Origin, Walker completed in hours what others would do across lifetimes. 

He placed the finishing touches on a dog park, then spent a few minutes watching as the memories drifted in. Looking past the blue mountains, an errant thought struck him. Almost on a whim, or perhaps by instinct, he created a massive Tree beyond the mountains of Santa Barbara. It filled the background so completely that he felt small just looking at it from miles and miles away. 

But the longer he looked at it, the less he thought he’d created it by accident.

Everything here had a purpose. The ghosts were people he’d known, drawn from his perfected memory. The animals, creatures he’d seen or interacted with. Even the mountains and oceans had a purpose. He’d created them as metaphysical representations of elements within his personality. The mountains represented his determination, his strength. The ocean, his fluidity, and the ability to adapt to situations, something Virgil had said was a boon for his species.

Then what was the tree?

With a thought, Walker stood before it. While Santa Barbara had a perfect blue sky and grass, there was nothing to support the tree’s environment but the white floor and his oath in the sky. He hadn’t gotten to that yet. 

He knew creating imagery for imagery’s sake was a mistake. He didn’t know how he knew, only that he did. That had been happening more often lately. Like his instinct had taken an upgrade. And he’d learned to trust that instinct implicitly. 

So then, why the tree? 

Walker looked up at it. There was a purpose to this. He’d begun the protocol with a tree, though calling it that was pushing the term. It had only stood a few feet tall, odd symbols carved into its leaves. Symbols he now knew to be the Icons of the Primigenials.

His discovery of magic had come from a smiling, waving Blitzburg and a Spirit Tree. While his modified Mana Trees had their ups and downs, they were at the heart of his success with Symphony. Aside from Virgil and his building of systems, Mana Trees were the reason why he’d gone as far as he had in the Alpha Protocol.

Then, there was the matter of the soul. In the second stage, as he shifted to the third, he’d formed a tree during his quiet, desperate battle with Kwaya. It had been formed from many ideas, only changing into the Book of Souls after he’d absorbed her power and let his greed run rampant. 

And what was a book but pages and pages of paper? The extended children of their long-grown parents. Trees were at the heart of his experience in the Alpha Protocol.

They were tied directly to his soul and his experiences. It only made sense that one would sit at the heart of his metaphysical realm. And like the Tree of the Gods, this one needed to be special. Only, as he looked at it, he knew. This one needed to be an escape, instead of a prison. 

It needed a purpose.

Walker reached into the sky. Connecting with his oath was like connecting with a part of himself. With a gesture, he brought it down, dragging it into the tall, leafy branches of the Tree. Without knowing how he did so, he branded the tree with his new oath, embedding it into its growth. 

As the metaphysical world of his soul grew, his oath and the tree would as well. 

And he knew how to speed up that process.

His second mind opened up, expelling the metaphysical representation of the Book of Souls from his chest. He didn’t need to do this, necessarily. They were so closely bonded that to a large degree, Walker was the Book of Souls. But the visualization of what he was about to attempt would be interesting to watch.

Reaching forth a hand, both of his minds went to work as the Book of Souls opened up to the second set of pages. Triton’s. The Primigenial’s pages tore themselves free, surprising Walker at the lack of pain. Almost like this was their original purpose. 

Pages now floating in the air, Walker pushed an idea. A cover wrapped around the remnants of Poseidon’s son, the Primigenials' name stamped upon its surface. While the cover was the color of Walker’s soul, holding his authority in this domain, the pages were Triton’s, an almost sapphire blue holding all of his memories and a tinge of power.

Walker waved, and the book, under his power, jetted toward the Tree. It slowed and settled on a leaf extending from a low-hanging branch, branding the Primigenials' Icon into it before disappearing. A moment later, a small acorn budded beside it, dropping to the ground. As it landed on the white ground, a green and blue flash came into existence. 

When the blinding light faded, a man stood where the acorn had just been. 

“An acorn tree,” Walker said with a twisted smile, “How am I not surprised that…that…” Walker paused as his two minds focused intensely for a moment, before smiling and speaking again, “That the Everbound Tree is beneficial for squirrels?”

“What am I doing here?” Triton said as he keyed in on Walker’s voice, “I died.”

“Yes, you did. Well…you did, and you didn’t.” Walker said, stepping close to the man. He placed a hand on the shocked god’s shoulder. The weight of his touch was both a warning and a friendly gesture. “I still haven’t forgiven you for what you were planning to do. To me, your death was just and deserved. But, here,” Walker lifted his hand and gestured around himself. “This is a new world for you. A new opportunity. There are no children. No bloodlines. No true ends or beginnings. Only freedom, and imagination. This place will let you create your own little world within my own. Your own piece of the pie, if you will. And you won’t be alone.”

Walker reached forth again, and dozens of pages tore themselves out. He covered each in the power of his soul, granting them a form of permissive existence within his metaphysical realm, then pressed them into their yet more leaves, a binding agent for each soul. Nuts and fruits began to drop, the tinkling sound of each a musical panoply of a better future for all. Just like Triton, each sprang up as a new and yet old Primigenial.

With a quick thought, a second Walker stepped away from the original, one holding all of the same thoughts and memories as the first. As that one explained to each what they were allowed to do in this new world, the other continued to remove pages from the Book of Souls, until all that was left were a few. His own green pages, a series of purple, and two black.

The other Walker stepped over, merging with the original, and both minds made a decision independent of the other but common in cause. 

Ripping the purple pages out, Walker smashed them into pieces. There was a light resistance, but in this place, Walker was a capital G God. 

Unlike the three soul-created squirrels protecting ghostly Santa Barbara, this soul was immensely powerful. Kwaya had held origin and was a direct disciple of Alma themself. Comparing her soul to the others simply wasn’t a fair exchange. She was also dangerous, and couldn’t be allowed to roam around his soul unimpeded. 

While he had total authority here, allowing Kwaya’s soul to retain her memories and live a second life here simply wasn’t an option. 

Gathering the shattered remnants of her soul, he re-formed it, until a green squirrel with a purple tie stood before him. The newest and by far most powerful guardian nodded once, then leaped upon the Everbound Tree, its duty to forever protect the souls of those its former personage had once imprisoned.

Walker looked up, and in a blink, he was in the sky, looking upon his Metaphysical realm. The Primigenials had understood what he was granting them and had gone to work quickly. Protected by the power of his soul, each was using the authority granted to them to build their own territory. 

Triton built a sea, separate from Santa Barbara’s.    

The Chinese pantheon flashed into existence, palaces of jade and gold appearing across their corner of the landscape, fantastical creatures filling the area, and also giving Walker access to new genera. 

An interesting feature he didn’t ignore. 

Native American land sprang up as well, each as varied as the next, while the Primigenials finally received a world with promise. One that allowed them to live their lives free from the oppression of Earth’s former Creator- Of anyone telling them how to be.

There were more, hundreds, thousands more. Long forgotten members of mythological history, brought to the present with a seed for the future. And as his metaphysical world was built upon the meaning and understanding of the Primigenials, he felt something else occurring. Something he’d instinctively understood would happen if he gave them a world of their own.

His soul was crossing into the fourth stage.

There was no visual representation. No notification or overlay update. It was an understanding from within. A connection, as Zeus’s message had spoken of. On that thought, Walker reached into his memory and pulled up exactly what Zeus had said. 

“The connections are no longer about your history and experiences. It's not about what people see on the surface, but beneath. Your true self. Your oath.”

Another memory joined.

Zeus held up a hand, a ball of lightning zipping around it. Walker played that part over and over again, before a final line came in from his second mind.

…“How much do you trust me, Walker?”

Walker nodded. Zeus didn’t control lightning; it was a part of him. It was him. That’s what he’d been misunderstanding. But he doubted the old Primigenial had started with lightning. He’d probably started with a spark. Something small that he built into something greater. 

But Walker wasn’t the same. He hadn’t chosen an elemental Icon. He’d chosen something broader. Larger. More far-reaching. And as the understanding and meaning of the Primigenials leaked into his soul, Walker absorbed it. Took it on himself. Filled himself to the brim, then, knowing again what needed to be done, infused it into the sky above. The Ground below. The Everbound Tree and the oath it contained.

A pulse fired out from the Tree, one that matched the intensity that was mirrored in Walker himself. Feeling the Tree and himself further connect, he felt it as the Everbound and his oath called to him. 

Zeus had said that faith and a belief in yourself mattered in the fourth stage. It was a requirement for getting there. So, he firmed up one singular thought in his mind.

I’m Walker Reed, and I will always be better.

Walker willed himself forward, merging with the trunk and left his fears behind.

The depth of the Everbound was far greater than it showed on the outside. He didn’t know how long he traveled, but he knew when he stopped, he was in the center. Walker looked up as his vision accepted something that couldn’t be. Instead of seeing wood and leaves, it was a sky, one that shifted as stars populated with a broad stroke. One constellation peaked out, then another. And in the center of it all, the Book of Souls showed itself in all its glory.

His original Icon sat surrounded by dozens of other new constellations. Ones he hadn’t viewed before. Many were far away, representing paths he hadn’t traveled. A sword. A doll. Others that gave off feelings that didn’t sit right with him.

But many still stuck to him. This was a choice. He had to pick, right now, what he wanted to be. 

Walker’s eyes traveled. 

A helmet was close enough to the Book of Souls that he felt he could still pick it. It didn’t perfectly line-up with his path, but he felt he had the option to choose it. 

The constellations surrounding it gave off feelings of blood. Triumph. A great army whose number of battles never seemed to end. If he chose this constellation, he would gain the powers of a Primordial General. A leader of martial men and women.

Moving on, he found another constellation of lights up under his eyes. It was a pen, something that connected with the Book of Souls much more closely than the helmet. 

Around it were several smaller constellations that formed a complete picture. A bridge. A table. Two hands holding one another. All together, he gathered the sense that this would be an Architect. A builder who focused on designing and creating new environments. Worlds and land. Something that was perfectly within his wheelhouse.

But it still didn’t sit right. 

Walker had reached the third stage by taking a risk. He’d gone with a non-conventional method, and that had paid off huge dividends. Maybe the original Icon, the Grand Tree, would’ve been better. But the Book of Souls had felt…right. A piece of him that fit the puzzle.  

Rather than focus on what Walker hadn’t become and wouldn’t choose, he looked around for smaller constellations that would best fit with his previous choice.

To the far left sat the Grand Tree he’d once compressed into the Book of Souls. It had come back, and from it, he felt a powerful sense of history. Of long-lasting permanence, that can be cut down only to return. Of shade granted to others when the sun became unbearable. Of strength.

To the right was a constellation that looked like nothing but a seed. Walker felt curiosity and potential from it. A sense that growth was always possible. Of firm thoughts sprouting into greater ideas.

He knew, by looking at the two smaller constellations, that if he merged them into the Book of Souls floating in the sky, it would free him up to make a few optional choices. That he could change what his Icon meant, and what it could do.

The top showed a pattern of stars that gave him a good feeling. It was in the shape of a knot twisted into the infinity symbol. The constellation gave off feelings of complexity and mysteries he’d yet to set upon. Of challenge and trials, tribulations and great difficulties. Of joy in the hunt. Of never-endingness similar to the tree, but in a different way. Enough so that they too could connect, branching from the Book of Souls, to the Grand Tree, and finally the Knot.

But he knew he could add one more to the bunch. Walker looked below the sky, to the horizon. It was empty. A light splotch that looked like it should hold something, but didn’t. An empty vessel, waiting to be filled. 

That was his chance to do something different. To be different than those who had come before.

Without thought, the Book of Souls lifted itself, and Walker watched as the green pages of his life tore themselves out. They flew so fast into the sky, if he’d blinked, he might’ve missed it. 

The pages streaked into the emptiness, forming a complicated net of dull imagery until a new constellation was born where nothing but an abyss had once sat. It came to be through an explosion of bright green. Light enough to almost be considered yellow in hue. 

The green-yellow lights molded themselves into the shape of a man. It wasn’t like Orion or anything else he’d ever seen. The stance was off. It had a clear-cut outfit and didn’t fit the standard forms in the remainder of the sky. 

By looking at the pages, now stars, making up the suit, he knew it was Walker Reed, pure and simple. 

It gave off feelings of watching, learning, and making connections. Of intractability, and a refusal to bow down to others. Of living paradoxically, but in tune with morality. Of striving, always striving to be better. Of wanting more in a life that had spit on him when he’d bared his chest to chance.

He didn’t need to be told to know what to do. He didn’t need to use the power of his soul. All he needed to do was will it, and it would be done. 

This was dangerous. What he wanted out of the Fourth stage was unique, and something that didn’t quite mesh with him. There was an off-chance that this could go wrong.

So, so wrong. 

But he was set in his plans.

Staring at the shape of himself in the dark sky, Walker gave a light push, and all the constellations merged not upon the Book of Souls, but upon the image of himself burning in the yellow glow of his life. Each filtered their impressions together, forming the shape of what Walker’s ultimate Icon could be. What the Book of Souls had started when it was first born.

Walker gave voice to the finalized Icon that sat within his soul.

“I am Knowledge.”

Chapter 170: Symphonian

Time in the metaphysical world of his soul…changed. 

Reality shifted as everything took on a dark green shade, quickly lightening to grass before moving further and settling on a pale green. 

Across the bubble of Walker’s soul, the Primigenials stopped in the midst of their actions. The Guardians and the Tanager did as well. The ghosts and memories of everything built within the expanded scope of his internal world became frozen as, for a brief, broad moment, everything in Walker’s soul was gripped by the power of his Idol.

Then, life resumed.

Within the Everbound tree, a transformation was occurring. It wasn’t the tree that was changing, of course, but its inhabitant and the progenitor of its so far life. Walker Reed was going through a change. He was becoming who he was meant to be. And it came with all kinds of hangups.

“Lime green? Really? Lime?”

Walker hated lime green. It wasn’t as bad as turquoise, but nonetheless, it was far down the list of his favorite spectrum of colors.

He turned his hand over, noting how the wispy power of his soul had thickened. He waved his other hand through it, finding a slight resistance that hadn’t been there before. He sighed.

“I’ll have to live with it.”

Turning around, he walked away from the starry room, where the only thing left in the sky was the image of a man in a suit.

A quick walk and he found himself in the trunk of the tree. The proper trunk, that is. He knew without thinking that he could re-enter the starry space he’d just left, but it was time to move on. 

Small susserations in his soul continued to occur as he looked around. It was like the twitching muscles people would feel after a good workout. A stretching and bowing of the spirit. 

The trunk he’d entered was no longer solid. Instead, Walker found himself in a wooden cutout with a framed opening to the greater metaphysical world. 

Walker paused as another informational dump dropped into his mind.

With a thousand Primigenials walking around the space of his soul, knowledge kept entering unbidden, a ramification of his selection of Idols and the path he’d chosen to live.

The moment he’d entered the fourth stage, Walker hadn’t had any choice but to occupy his second mind with processing the incoming data and storing it. Walker’s initial creation of a library-like memory bank was now paying off as he stored every bit of information that came in using a pre-built organizational structure- A Walker Decimal system, if you will.

But unlike before, it didn’t only store memories. Now, it held knowledge, information, and even conversations being held in his metaphysical world. A direct and powerful upgrade to what had once been a benefit to his power as a Primordial. It was a lot at once, and his second mind was already having trouble parceling out the open sieve that his mind had now become.

He took two steps into the center of the trunk and looked up.

“Huh, I didn’t expect it to be hollow.”

Far, far into the distance, Walker found only darkness as the Everbound Tree’s top could not be seen. He knew, for a fact, there was no ending. The inside of his soul’s representation would never find a stopping point. It would continue on, and on, for as long as he wanted it to. 

So maybe he could use that.

Tapping into an innate ability he’d gained with the fourth stage, Walker reached forth, and a book appeared in his hand. Opening it, he glanced through and confirmed it was exactly as he’d thought it would be. He even knew exactly what the words would say on the pages it would say it. 

Looking back at the wooden walls, a shelf appeared where one hadn’t been there before, formed by his will and intent. Walker placed the book, spine facing him, against the wall.

“Triton’s Oceans within the Walkerverse: A Comprehensive Guide”

Walker hadn’t written the title, but at the same time, he had. It was pulled exactly from his mind as he would’ve named it following a long series of thoughts. That elicited a leap of joy from the man. 

“I never have to name anything ever again! Oh my god! Oh my me!” His hands folded over his lips as he uncharacteristically performed a light squeal, “This is the best power ever.” He knew it was silly, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.

He reached forth again, and another book appeared in his hand. 

“Walker Reed: Paradoxes: Vol. One of Three”

“Volume one? Really?” He reached out and grabbed another. 

“Virgil: Expectations of Liberty for the Supreme Assistant”

Walker dropped the first volume of paradoxes to grab another from the air.

 “Galactic Planeteaters and you: How to Defeat the Mighty”

Walker looked down to pick up the one he’d dropped, but it wasn’t there. Turning around, he found it already on a different shelf, one labeled Walker Reed Insights. While he’d already known what it would say, he’d had to focus on it. But now that it was on a shelf, the knowledge within parted for him, adding itself to his thoughts without him needing to try. It wasn’t waiting for him to reach for it, but already enmeshed within through his second mind. 

This was the power of his chosen Idol. A constant stream of information intrinsically at his fingertips.

With a thought, Walker’s second mind separated from him, forming into a duplicate Walker who didn’t even pause as it reached forth, and two new books appeared in his hands. He dropped them right away as more shelves appeared, the information directly downloading into his encyclopedic brain.

With another thought, Walker exited his Metaphysical world and appeared within the Continuum. His eyes caught onto Ra’Jin as the planeteater was far closer than he’d been before. Without a thought, Walker knew he had plenty of time to work as the math of the creature's movement was processed instantly. Ignoring him, he reached forth. A book appeared in his hands, as well as a drain on the energy of his soul. 

 “Galactic Planeteaters and you: How to Defeat the Mighty”

The knowledge was still there. He still knew every word on the page. But now, he had a physical copy. The cover and pages were the same hue as his soul, souring the discovery for him momentarily. For a test, he let the book go, and watched it drop through space on its way out of the bubble of time. As it fell, a new copy appeared in his hand, draining him further, but having no effect on the book already falling.

It was real. He could make objects within his world and bring them out. All it cost was his energy. 

That put a smile on his face. 

He didn’t know the limitations, but he was sure he would discover them with time. The important question was this: how did he get more soul power? What was needed to advance through the fourth stage? 

Zeus had said he needed connections, but Walker wasn’t sure about how to do that. So why not ask his new Idol? 

The second mind in the Everbound Tree pulled a book out and placed it on the shelf. 

“The Collected Conversations and Understandings of the Primordials Fourth Stage:

The Abridged Edition”

The information was downloaded, and Walker gained a rough idea of what he needed to do from a mixture of extrapolation and intuition. Rubbing his face with both hands as his brain processed everything, he looked over one last time at Ra’jin and the train of souls heading the planeteaters' way. He might have time, but those souls didn’t. There was no time for hesitation. 

Walker opened his eyes, lime green irises fixed forward, then spoke.

I will strive to grow- every day, in every way

The first line of his oath appeared in front of him just as the color of his soul rose up and covered his body with a sharp flare. 

I will shape a better future for myself and those beside me

The second line appeared beneath the first, hazy momentarily, then solid all the way through as he finished speaking. Walker’s soul flared a second time as it blazed forth, covering him in flames that took on many hues. In the world of his soul, each Icon on the Everbound Tree lit up as well, burning the self-same color of flame now joining his own in the physical world.

I will lift up those in need, never turning away from the deserving’s call for help

The colors began to blend, dipping and diving into one another as the flames rejoiced. For a moment, the flames blended together, showing a black that was quite different from what had presented itself as the Godeater. Then, they showed white as Walker's soul settled on what he was attempting to do. 

A burgeoning power began to coalesce, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

And above all, I will never settle-

All flames and power winked out just before he spoke the final line. 

I will always be better.

The last line set off a chorus of effects. The power of Walker’s soul shot up like a beacon, a signal, telling everyone who would look at the blinding green light that a Fourth-stage Primordial had declared their oath to the multiverse and taken on the next step toward self-actualization. 

But he wasn’t alone.

As his oath and the color of his soul fired into the dark heavens, corresponding light sprang up. Not around him, but around Symphony. 

All of those who agreed with Walker's oath, that every mountain could and should be climbed, that every path was worth walking as long as it was in tune with who you wanted to be, now found an echo in the power of Walker’s soul. The soul’d who had accepted, truly accepted, the religion of Dante, were now willingly granting him their power. A small shaving, truth be told, but one with consequences Walker had yet to understand. 

Cascades of light shot toward Walker in slow motion, the first reaching him quickly.

Naturally, it was Runner Groves.

The light blue soul power of Runner Grove zipped into the blazing candle of Walker’s. It found a home there, and with it, came a true connection to her Creator. Memories, knowledge, and an understanding of speed jolted into Walker’s mind as his bond with the Founder increased at a multiplicative rate. But she was only the first, and there were many still traveling his way.

To the Founders and people of Symphony, this all happened in less than a blink. To Walker, it was only the beginning.

His second mind went into overdrive, pulling and dropping books within the Everbound Tree as it tried to process everything Runner gave it from her fifty-one years of life. He gained information on how to increase his speed, both naturally and unnaturally, through the concept gifted to her by Virgil. 

He also gained her challenges, her weakness from the trial and the conservatory, her anguish, and her dread. All the knowledge bound up within the memory-like soul of Runner Grove was now shuffled into the mind of Walker Reed.

And millions more were coming. Both minds had the same thought. 

This is going to be too much. 

Walker sent a message to both Virgil and Ulysses, ones with exacting details on what he needed to know just as three more speedy souls reached him. He stuck his head out to quickly receive their responses, then dove back in.

From Ulysses, Walker received an incredibly long breakdown of what he’d learned of Dimensionality, Kinetic energy, Time, and Space. It was thousands upon thousands of pages long and written in the span of seconds, but Walker took it all in, prioritizing the second mind’s focus as he absorbed it into heaving books that would shatter the arms of a small child should they attempt to lift them. 

From Virgil, he received exacting notes on how the Advanced Evolution, Magic, and Concept chambers worked. He’d asked for the most complicated versions Virgil could provide, and the Supreme Assistant didn’t let him down. Both the magic and concept chambers were derivative of the Evolution Chamber, a markedly impressive contraption that had changed the entire way a multiverse conducted itself. So Walker absorbed even more notes. Plans, structural designs, and the manner in which the Evolvers had coded the evolution system to work through the chambers.

He knew what he needed to do, but it was currently out of reach. Even with all of his power, all of the souls and the information they were about to bring him, it would never be enough. He needed three Walkers. Ten. Maybe more. 

So, that’s what he did.

Walker first started by expanding the size of the Continuum field. By grabbing Dimensionality and timing it with a specific metamorphose that Ulysses had described in detail, he managed to get it down exactly right, combining it with the already established timefield without further exposing his resources to a dwindling state.

The continuum field expanded, just far enough that it wouldn’t affect Ra’Jin, but did touch on Sonata proper.

Then, Walker did what the Godeater had always held him back from. He changed the shape of his body.

Always before, when coating himself in Continuum, it had led to him being in a weakened state. But that was the Godeater keeping him contained to the start of the third stage. By expanding and empowering his soul, it came with physical benefits that should never be overlooked. Like the ability to adjust how his body worked.

Walker grew from just over six feet to ten feet tall by simply willing it to be so. His mind went over the pattern of his organs, recalling everything he’d ever learned about the human body in a blink, then shifted them, dragging them left and right within as he did what would take a standard third-stage Primordial dozens of years to accomplish.

Feeling comfortable with the changes, he made another.

One of the Advanced Evolution Chambers fell into pieces as Walker rewound time around it, while isolating its location with a trick of space taught to him by Ulysses. Then he did it again, leaving Sonata with only a few working contraptions, but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered if he didn’t win here.

All of the pieces zipped over to him with a grasp of space and his soul, then began to reconstruct themselves over his body just as several dozen souls touched him. He gasped as anguish, love, and most of all, determination bled through to his consciousness. 

Unlike when he took on the Primordials, he wasn’t fighting their memories. No. Instead, he was taking them on as his own. Pieces of his people were forming the Creator who had brought them forth in the first place. A circuitous bit of chance or fate that was surely changing him. Strengthening him. Granting him the power to continue on so that they all might see a brighter future.

Even with the path he’d chosen and the idol he’d received, he understood one thing. He wasn’t all-knowing. He’d likely never be all-knowing. But he was a lot of knowing, and that would spell the difference in winning the last battle. 

The two Advanced Evolution Chambers merged into one, the extra unused parts being absorbed into his Inventory. Reaching through the chamber with his now physically heavy soul, Walker set it on the very first task he’d ever designed with an Evolution Chamber- Kernels and Mana Veins.

Walker Reed was about to become a Symphonian.