Primordial Memory was silent, and only the booming sound of the Archon's footsteps could be heard as it approached Rowan and then stopped.
Halting at this position was not a fluke. Primordial Memory had watched Rowan battle, and he knew that within a certain distance, Rowan's blade would always hit. The child had refined combat to an extreme level, reaching a position where he could slice apart laws.
If this was what he was capable of as a broken mortal who had barely glimpsed the true nature of Fate and thoroughly mastered it, how much more dangerous would he become if he reached the dimension of Destiny?
Rowan whispered; he could not waste any energy, not even to scream.
"If you don't come to me, I shall come to you."
Primordial Memory chuckled, "My Gilded Maw, do you think this was all there was to it? What is happening to you is the First Spike: The Fracture? Meant to break your flesh, or did you think I forgot your soul, Rowan?"
