Chapter 166: The Button

Author's note:

Single chapter now, with a follow-up chapter tomorrow. Ran into some issues this week (personal and fucked me up), and I have a tournament. That means that next weekend will be a single chapter, though a big one. I promise to make it up to you later.

This chapter has been a very long time coming. I hope you like it.

Chapter 166: The Button

A weakened amount of Temporal energy still covered Walker, and he knew it wouldn’t last long. Replacing the resources to enhance his connection to time, he closed his eyes and considered what Runner had told him.

That Dad comment is new

He shook that off and refocused again.

How many kids do I have with that logic? A few million? A billion?

He shook that off again, feeling a mental slap coming from the Book of Souls for his trouble.

Walker knew that none of this would end until the Ancient Planeteater was dead and gone. If Ra’jin had the Godeater parasite and had already absorbed some of the souls from Symphony’s people, it was only a matter of time before it grew completely out of control. The Omega entity’s size and evolutions already pushed it into a camp that was hard to manage, even with all of Walker’s abilities. If given enough time, and he absorbed the many, many activated souls on Symphony, the level of power Ra’jin held would quickly grow beyond his ability to handle.

Even if I went full Dante, it wouldn’t matter by then. He took a mental pause, cycling through his options as the Book of Souls offered its advice. In the end, there was only one choice. So, it comes down to desperation.

Walker had two aces in his pocket for this battle. He’d spent a good while in the Time Rings, considering everything that could happen in the final battle and what would come after. That the Alpha Protocol was going to shunt him away the moment they won was a surprise, but not a powerful one, as he knew there had to be some extra twist they’d throw in to fuck with him. But to use one of his aces, an action that would fundamentally change him, was something he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do.

Strength was a good thing, particularly when you needed it to protect people. But changing himself into something else was dangerous on numerous levels. He might lose himself and become something that was unrecognizable from his original form.

But then again, he might just lose without it.

If the rest of Symphony is anything like Runner, then they’re putting up a great fight. But we all know it won’t be enough. At best, they’re stalling. Walker took a mental breath. If they’re going to fight for me, I can do nothing less than fight for them as well.

Final decision made, and it was a final decision in multiple levels, Walker kicked off of Symphony’s ground with a distinct worry that he would never touch it again. Only his own strength and ingenuity would be able to bring him back.

Lifting high into the sky, he looked down at a world of explosions, fire, and smiling gray figures.

It's not exactly what I wanted Symphony to be.

A frown marred his face as he spent a moment staring at the panoply of riotous colors. He could’ve created a portal, but outside of his Temporal funding, it would take too long to form, and he didn’t want to burn extra resources that he would soon need. With a shake of his head, he put Symphony out of his mind and intentionally turned his back on the warzone.

Pushing himself, he added a few extra resources of Kinetic energy to his feet, hardened space beneath him, and lightly leaped toward the green moon. How quickly it approached him was not a surprise, as he knew, without haste, he was screwed.

He broke through the odd atmosphere of the green moon with the cyan sky, and slammed into yet more hardened space as he needed to lessen the velocity of his coming. Quickly, he kinetically leaped toward one of the first things to inhabit his tiny world.

The Tree of the Gods.

Long ago, over a hundred years to Walker, he had been told that the Tree of the Gods was a bomb. One that was filled with the souls of Primigenials. Primordials, he now knew to be their true name.

Kwaya had created the Tree of the Gods to feed off the power of the Primordials for thousands of years. All in the hopeless chase of using it to destroy the council when the new Creator it was bound to ended up in their proximity. How he was supposed to bring it with him, or how he was supposed to end up winning with the Godeater on his back, Kwaya had never explained. She’d just hoped he would use it to destroy the Center and all of those in power across the Evolver multiverse.

In one instance, she was right…he was going to blow it up.

So he could absorb every single soul within it.

That should more than satisfy the Godeater within me, he thought to himself as the top of the tree approached his eyes.

But first, he needed to find the button Kwaya had spoken of. From the vaguest of memories, he remembered there being a tiny, elevated location near the top of the tree. Stepping on hardened space built as a form of stairs, Walker moved toward the top, passing dozens to hundreds of branches on his way to potential destruction.

None of these had yet borne any fruit. The Greeks, the Nords, and the Egyptians had already touched down. But the Chinese had only a single, solitary Primigenial whom Walker still hadn’t even met. He had a message from Cagna about them, but so far, he hadn’t had time to look at it.

What bothered him was that the moment he pushed the button, if it did explode as Kwaya expected, then all of these trapped lives would meet a sudden end. With a simple action, Walker would be murdering hundreds of people, maybe more.

He’d killed before, no doubt about that. You can’t create monsters with growing skills and abilities without being considered some kind of murderer. Not to mention his little Full Dante at the Grand Auction, but he’d come to terms with that long ago.

This was different.

They hadn’t wronged him. He was, without exception, killing people. It brought up the old parable he used to hit his students with. Would you kill one to save a thousand?

He used to say he wouldn’t. But, as it often does, reality turned out far differently from the ideals you try to hold together. That purity you try to maintain in your soul would, inch by inch, be corrupted through forced actions and impregnable gray decisions. Walker’s purity was murky at best, and it was about to get a lot worse.

As he took the steps, errant wonderings wormed their way into his thought processes. Did this make him like John Reed? After all, the former Mr. Harrison had murdered the Earth to save Symphony. Walker’s original world had held billions of people, but if Virgil's estimates held true, Symphony would one day hold many times that. So, truly, what made him different than the man who’d destroyed his homeworld for a potential greater good?

I can explain myself to them. Warn them. They deserve at least that much.

Cresting a series of further steps and finally reaching the top of the Tree of the Gods, Walker did two things with speed. He sent a pre-written message to Zeus, asking for a return for the favor the King of the Gods had requested. Then, he reabsorbed his Temporal resources, cutting off his connection to time.

What he didn’t do was look up. He knew that if he did, he’d see the monstrosity that was Ra’jin, gap-toothed smile and all, coming toward him.

No, he was focused on finding the button.

“Where are you, fucker!” Walker yelled as he spread his hands across the tree. He was extremely careful not to press down, only to roam his hands across the oddly felt crown of the tree in his search. Hands a blur, they finally settled down on a spot just off center, where a clearly elevated section in the shape of a mighty hexagon sat. Having found it, Walker activated Soul Vision while simultaneously extending himself toward the Tree of the Gods.

Athena had let slip that the Primigenials had long ago learned how to extend their souls, contrary to what he’d been told by Kwaya in her disparagement of the group. It was how they communicated with one another whilst being trapped within the leafy prison.

As his soul touched the crown, his eyes traced the branches and symbolic fruit upon them.

“What the fuck is that?” He said out loud when spotting an extended red fruit in the shape of a scarecrow.

Who said that? Walker heard from within, I don’t recognize that voice; who are you? Are you here to set us free?

Freedom!

Get us out of here already!

More voices lumped on with their own interjections and exclamations, but Walker cleared his mind. What he was about to say was truly terrible, but he couldn’t find another option and time was running out.

Shut up!

Not a good start.

Look, I know. I understand that you’ve been in here for an interminable amount of time. It’s torture, being cooped up in one spot, forced to sit still, and only speak with the same people for thousands of years. That isn’t lost on me. And…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do. Some of you, most of you probably, deserve your freedom. You’ve put in your time, locked away in this prison, uncertain of when you’re going to be released. But, and here’s the tricky part, you were never really meant to be released in the first place.

The voices came back threefold, but he spoke right over them, flexing the power of his soul to calm them down.

The person who built this place never wanted you to escape. This is a battery, and you all are the power source. The Tree of the Gods is a construct designed by the Awakened, Kwaya. There’s a lot to tell you about her, but it comes down to one thing. She was a bitch.

The expected message from Zeus came in, but Walker ignored it as the voices had gone silent after a brief flare of noise.

Right now, me and my people are under attack. We, along with the branches from the Greeks, Nords, and Egyptians, will not survive this without taking drastic action. If we lose, and we are very much in danger of losing, some pretty terrible things will happen. With Kwaya dead, you all will more than likely be lost to obscurity. My plans, and my people, will die horrible deaths, their souls absorbed by a creature I hesitate to tell you of.

He took a breath, even though he wasn’t speaking out loud.

It comes down to this. Kwaya was the one who placed you with me, and she was the one who helped the Creator of Earth entrap you. In fact, I can still feel a piece of her within the Tree itself.

And he could, as an odd resonance from within the Book of the Souls pulsed in agreement with his words. As if defending itself, a tiny spark of purple seemed to rise from the button, but Walker quickly breathed it in, absorbing the spark before it could do anything. Any other time, he would have been freaked out by Kwaya seemingly still being a part of the Tree, but he didn’t have time for that.

Case in point, for those of you who saw what just happened, he said in the calmest tone of voice he could.

The Primigenials spoke up again, with one rising over the rest.

And what is to happen to us? Or to Sun Wukong, who escaped only a short time ago.

Walker had thought this through in the Time Rings, so he gave the most honest answer he could.

Rather than allow you to be absorbed by the Awakened Planeteater, I’m going to absorb you myself. I’ll use your memories as best as I can to defend those who carry on your legacy, but after that, I can’t promise anything else.

And Sun Wukong? The voice asked again.

As long as he doesn’t cause any issues, he’ll be free to live his life on Symphony once this is all over.

Each branch seemed to pull in on themselves as they discussed the scenario. While they did that, Walker pulled up the message Zeus had sent to him.

Zeus: What the hell, why not? I don’t think I have much time left as it is. You asked about how to go about making connections with people to further empower yourself. It’s simple: they have to believe in you. The more that people believe in you, and that you embody the oath you’ve taken, the greater your power. Breaking through to the fourth stage is about not only the belief of others, but a belief in yourself.

Zeus: Good luck, Walker. Take care of my favorite daughter, and thanks for everything.

Walker didn’t like the finality of the message, but he did appreciate the spirit in which it was given. He could now feel that the branches were silent, so he called out to those within.

I apologize, but I don’t have a lot of time. Our enemy is approaching and will be here very soon. If anyone has any ideas of what I could do instead, I’m all ears, otherwise, I’m afraid this is it.

After a heartbeat, which was still too much time, the single branch at the very top spoke up.

We agree to your requirement, Creator. Do what you must.

For our people.

For our descendants.

For humanity and the future of the Primigenials.

To fuck over that bitch, Kwaya.

After pausing for a final moment, Walker thanked them, both out loud and with his soul.

Stepping back from the Tree, Walker sent out several pre-written messages to those who needed to know, then re-covered himself in temporal energy. Knowing it was his last actions before attempting one of the most dangerous things he’d ever done, Walker turned around and looked at where he’d left the Ancient Planeteater.

Still hundreds of miles away, a floating Ra’Jin moved towards Walker at a sedate pace, eyeless gaze fixed on his tiny green moon.

A train of comparatively much smaller Planeteaters could be seen moving toward their parent in a line from Symphony, a distinct few covered in the hazy, opaque glow of Temporal energy. Its effect was surely weakened compared to his full dose, but still enough to see them move, albeit slowly.

With his ability still active, Walker spotted each soul carried in the stomachs of the smiling gray creatures as they made their way to the mother of all Planeteaters.

Bailan.

Hermes.

Apollo.

Ares.

Fillion.

Rine, Waleska, and Hefron from the second cohort, Echidna.

The greater majority of the souls being carried were Primigenials, enough that something burned in Walker’s chest as he spotted them. Once the Temporal energy reached Ra’jin, everything would likely end quite suddenly as the ancient creature accelerated in time.

He had to get this done before that could happen.

Pulling out hundreds of Enhancement resources and smothering himself in them, Walker then pushed Temporally spiked Continuum into the area. And again. And again. Until at four times the Temporal speed of the Rendition, he stopped, his body vibrating so roughly that tiny particles of skin began to flake off as he watched. He was careful not to cover the Tree of the Gods in the least, as everything had to be done perfectly.

Step one complete, he thought to himself, just as his hand briefly plunged through the continuum, and pushed the button that was set to explode thousands of years of accrued soul energy.

A brief pulse of purple fired up from the top of the tree, before it spiked back down, cutting through the core of the great prison and impacting the bottom with a powerfully vibrant explosion. Cracks sprang up amongst every branch, twig, fruit, and biggest of all, the trunk, as Kwaya’s plan seemingly went off, though on the wrong planet.

The energy began to spin as Walker watched it all happen with a wide-open look and a half-opened mouth. The spinning energy began to build up, combining into a white, then black, then white again force that gave off a spiritual heat so vast and powerful that Walker felt seared to the bone.

Then, he breathed in.