"Codex, explain to me, what does it mean to be an 'anchor' for existence?" I asked while floating within my mindscape, continuing preparations for my evolution.
The question had been gnawing at me since I'd first heard the term. Being called an "anchor" sounded straightforward enough, but I'd learned that in matters of cosmic significance, simplicity was often deceptive.
Codex's luminous form shifted, contracting slightly as if gathering his thoughts. The space around us—my mindscape—remained vast and boundless, a realm of infinite potential waiting to be shaped.
"For you to understand, you first need to grasp the crux of the issue at hand," Codex began, his voice resonating through the golden expanse that surrounded us.
His explanation, as simple as it initially sounded, revealed layers of complexity that made my head spin. The cosmic stakes were higher than I'd imagined, the players more powerful, the consequences more dire.
In short, those beings my variants had derisively called "fucktards"—and honestly, I was getting tired of that term despite how amusing it sounded—were far more than mere troublemakers. They weren't just powerful entities who'd made a cosmic mistake; they were existential threats of the highest order.
"They call themselves 'Proteras,' an ancient civilization dating back to when existence was young," Codex revealed, his voice taking on a grave timbre that made the golden atmosphere of my mindscape darken slightly. "Though I cannot mention their specific identities since they would become aware of you almost immediately and hunt you down, what you need to know is that the majority of their strongest beings are primordials. While not primordial gods of specific aspects of existence, their strength rivals such beings and often surpasses them."
The implications hit me like a physical blow. If I had thought being an anchor was troublesome, these Proteras were clearly beyond anything I'd anticipated. My stomach clenched with a mixture of dread and defiance.
"Luckily for everyone," Codex continued, a hint of pride entering his voice, "there were those who could match them in all aspects..."
"Let me guess... my variants, no?" I said in defeat, already knowing the answer.
"Indeed, my lord. Due to your unique disposition after they carried out their actions, your variants became nigh invincible to anyone who was not close to completing their souls from the original split." Codex's form brightened, emphasizing his next words. "The hierarchy of power in our existence dictates as such: One cannot become a peak nova primordial without being complete. And since you—rather, your variants—were as such, the very thing the Proteras brought into existence became their downfall."
Well, at least I now knew that an ancient civilization, as old as time itself for this existence, was probably after my head. Great. Just great.
"But how do they fit into this mess?" I asked quizzically, trying to piece together the cosmic puzzle that had somehow become my life.
The answer I got had me pale in absolute horror.
Apparently, the solution my variants had devised to rectify what the Proteras had done was simple in concept yet staggering in execution: To take it all back to the very beginning and ensure it doesn't happen again.
So in simple terms, right here, right now, inside my little cultivation abode...
"This is the past, and the future which should have happened..." I began as the realization dawned on me, my voice barely a whisper in the golden void.
"Has yet to, nor won't happen," Codex finished in a grim tone.
The golden sky above us churned in response to my turmoil, clouds of concentrated knowledge swirling in agitation. The island beneath our feet—the representation of my underdeveloped core—trembled slightly, its pristine surfaces rippling like disturbed water.
"But how? That doesn't solve anything. Won't they still go about their actions again?" I asked, my voice edged with worry. The logical inconsistency bothered me—if we've just reset time, aren't we doomed to repeat the same catastrophe?
"The reason why the sacrifice your variants made is so significant is due to this," Codex explained slowly, his form expanding to encompass more of my visual field, as if physically underlining the importance of his words. "With their sacrifice, the energy released from the eventual destruction and erasure of the variant timelines was used to mend the broken original timeline, which was barely hanging on and about to be destroyed as well. With their actions, they were able to fix it and revert time, but this time with a critical twist."
I listened intently, my consciousness fully focused on every word. The stakes couldn't be higher—we were discussing nothing less than the preservation of all existence.
"The only singularity that could—and was able to—survive all of these actions and modifications to the timeline, as well as the space-time continuum, was you, my lord," Codex continued. "Since you were a complete being from the very start, having only undergone a single split, they safeguarded you from being split further and had you separated into two universes within the multiverse."
"Why did they do this?" I asked, though I was beginning to see the pattern.
"To hide your presence, your temporal aura from the Proteras," Codex answered. "Since after their actions, the past Proteras—who are the beings of now in this time and space—would come to realize one thing: they have the idea, they have the tools, but are missing the crucial factor to make it all work."
"And what's that?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer would inevitably involve me somehow.
"That would be me, my lord." Codex's voice carried a weight of responsibility that seemed to bend the very fabric of my mindscape. "Within my contents lies the means to complete what they had successfully done. Despite all situations, I am and will always be a singular existence, since I record all that was, is, and will be."
Well, fuck. That's just great, isn't it? I'm back in time, with a certain yet uncertain future, and an ancient civilization is out for my head or what is with me in this ca—
"Wait, back up a bit," I interrupted my own spiral of thought. "If they're after you, how the hell am I in the picture?" The grand scale of all this was truly no joke. I felt like a pawn suddenly told I was actually a king on a chessboard that spanned universes.
"Since your variants' solution—actually the only feasible one with the highest success rate—was to turn back time for all timelines, including the variant ones, they knew that without safeguards, everything would happen once again in the same manner," Codex began, his form pulsing with each emphasized point. "To that end, they needed an anchor, a wholesome and complete singularity to ensure that what happened won't repeat itself. Think of it as a way for existence to always have a backup or last line of defense that won't be breached no matter what should happen to its original timeline... in short, a single piece of itself..."
"To save it all, huh?" I finished with a mixture of awe and remorse.
To be honest, it was kind of absurd how far ahead my variants—different types of me—had thought. Now that I considered it, the ingenuity and creativeness were clearly on display.
The impossible actions taken by the Proteras were already absurd—with whatever means they possessed, they decided to create infinite variant timelines one variant at a time. Later on, due to the large number of variant timelines that had spawned, despite the vast quantity of possibilities held within the multiverse, the multiplicative effect was too much for the original timeline to bear, which then began to fracture and break, bringing us to the current situation.
"Then what am I to do, for crying out loud?" I asked, frustration evident in my voice. "Shouldn't I simply stay hidden and ensure I'm not found out?"
"To be honest, that would be the ideal and only solution," Codex replied, his voice measured and calm in contrast to my agitation. "However, the caveat is that we're now in a past that was meant to not exist. By now, the Proteras would have already realized this and are working to return to their former glory. I wouldn't be surprised if they've begun a manhunt for me across the multiverse, operating from the shadows."
His form darkened momentarily before continuing. "Should they get me, they will have some form of completion towards the branching and variation of the original timeline. Should they have you, they will also have the last piece needed to make the original timeline actually branch off, since even if they have one of us, the procedure won't work without the other."
In short, Codex had the knowledge and data to do it; I was the last key needed to branch the timeline. Truly, in every sense of the word, I was the linchpin of it all.
"Then I need to grow strong," I declared, determination replacing the uncertainty in my voice.
"So that you are not discovered, and stronger to ensure you can thwart any and all issues that may veer to cause the calamity we had in the forgotten future," Codex affirmed. "Your variant selves realized that even though everything would work out properly as per their calculations, it would all be useless if you were found. Hence, the other part of their sacrifice..."
"Leaving compressed parts of themselves, not containing knowledge of the future since it would be rendered moot if such a future won't happen, but knowledge of possible means to grow stronger," I completed as I gazed up into the golden 'sky' within my mindscape.
Previously, said mindscape had been completely empty, with an ever-expanding space that I couldn't reach the end of no matter how far I walked—a factor uncommon even in complete souls, since according to Codex, even the strongest nova primordials who stand at the peak of existence have defined borders within their mindscapes.
And now? The transformation was breathtaking.
The golden sky above was no longer a simple monochromatic expanse but a tapestry of celestial wonder. Clouds of knowledge floated not as mundane water vapor but as shifting, prismatic structures that defied conventional geometry. Each cloud was a universe unto itself, containing compressed wisdom and power from my countless variants. They did not merely float but danced in complex patterns, occasionally merging and separating in a cosmic ballet that reflected the ebb and flow of existential understanding.
The light that filtered through these knowledge-clouds cast ever-changing shadows across the island below, creating patterns that seemed to write and rewrite ancient equations and forgotten runes across its surface. Sometimes these shadows would coalesce into brief, ghostly images—faces of my variants perhaps, or scenes from lives I had lived but couldn't remember.
At the center of this cosmic display, where the golden light was most concentrated, occasional flashes of pure, white energy would burst forth—like supernovas in miniature—sending ripples through the entire mindscape that carried whispers of power and purpose.
As for the island that had appeared at the center of my mindscape—the representation of my core—it was a marvel beyond description. Though comparatively small—merely a few tens of kilometers across—its complexity and beauty defied comprehension. It wasn't simply a landmass floating in the void but a perfectly balanced ecosystem of energy and potential.
Mountains of crystalline thought rose from its center, their peaks reaching toward the golden sky, occasionally touching the lowest-hanging knowledge-clouds and drawing tendrils of wisdom down to the land below. These mountains were not static but slowly shifted, like tectonic plates of consciousness rearranging themselves into more harmonious configurations.
Rivers of liquid light flowed from these mountains, branching into intricate delta patterns that covered the island's surface. These rivers did not merely flow but pulsed with rhythmic energy—my heartbeat perhaps, or some more fundamental cosmic cadence. When they met the edge of the island, they didn't fall off into the void but curved upward, defying gravity to return to the peaks in an eternal cycle.
Forests of crystalline structures grew along these rivers, each "tree" a complex, fractal pattern that constantly grew and reconfigured itself. These weren't mere decorations but manifestations of growth potential—each new branch representing a possible path of development for my power.
The shoreline of the island was not a simple boundary but a gradient of increasing abstraction, where solid matter gradually gave way to energy, then to pure possibility, before finally merging with the golden void beyond. Standing at this edge gave the dizzying sensation of looking into both everything and nothing simultaneously.
Despite its relatively small size, the island contained within it seeds of infinite expansion—compressed potential waiting to be unleashed. It was my core, undeveloped but perfect in its foundations, ready to evolve into something that could rival or surpass the mightiest beings in existence.
The reason these structures had appeared was simple: with the vast information I received from my variants, my mindscape had automatically compartmentalized it all into "clouds" that I could access. Due to the immensity of what I had, should I even think of a possible means to achieve something, my unconscious mind—the driver of this mindscape—could retrieve it, but only if such knowledge existed.
As for the miniature land... it was my core, my undeveloped core, small but containing infinite potential.
"My lord, what are your plans?" Codex asked as I continued to observe the 'clouds' in my mindscape's golden sky.
"Well, considering that I have quite the massive endgame bosses to face, I need to be just as crazy as my variants and be even stronger than those who were able to match the Proteras. In short, I need to be stronger—strong enough to dominate them," I began as I walked to the center of the small island that represented my core. "To that end, I need two things to achieve that goal."
My footsteps left brief impressions on the surface of the island—not physical depressions but ripples of intent that spread outward, causing subtle shifts in the landscape around me. With each step, tiny crystalline structures sprouted and bloomed, then faded, as if my mere presence was enough to catalyze growth and change.
"I need a strong enough body and a strong enough core. And since the section of my soul is actually sorted out with their actions, it's only these two factors that will drag me down," I continued, my voice gaining confidence with each word.
Upon reaching the center of the island, the heart of the representation of my undeveloped core, I—the consciousness driving my body, core, and soul—prepared to cast the most archaic, ancient, and crazed formation plan that my variant selves had set out for me.
Of course, before proceeding, I had done my research and asked myself if there were alternatives. With questions to the dictionary of existence—namely Codex—while also conforming with the thought process behind the plan that all of my variants seemed to have in mind (and simultaneously regretting that they could never pull it off themselves), I came to the conclusion that this was truly the only way to survive.
The plan wasn't to merely match the civilization hunting me down—no, it was to dominate them and put them in their place so thoroughly that the natural order would be restored.
Sure, this might place restrictions on me... "But it's a restriction well deserved, considering that I'm now the only one in existence who knows what a true apocalypse—one that puts existence on its last legs—looks like," I said, determination hardening my voice.
The island beneath me trembled in response to my resolve, the crystalline mountains at its center growing slightly taller, the rivers flowing with increased luminosity.
For me to solve a problem that would cause an infinite headache, I simply needed to be infinitely stronger and infinitely more dominant. It was time to begin my ascension.