"Theoretically, once Amber of Time can seal Outer Deities, I could hard-control that swarm of Outer Deities and delay the apocalypse for countless years…" Alaric quipped, finishing his tea and turning his attention to digesting the Memory of Time potion.
Such a powerful potion naturally came with high digestion difficulty, yet Alaric found his Memory of Time potion was already more than half-digested.
"Why is that? Memory of Time…" Alaric mused. "Judging by the name and abilities, the focus is clearly on time. Could it be tied to recording time, restoring history, or recreating past events?"
Alaric blinked. If digesting the Memory of Time potion truly hinged on restoring people or objects to past states or reenacting history, his rapid progress made sense.
After all, with his help, Medici had reclaimed his War Angel status, the True Creator was nearing Sasrir's former state, Adam had evolved into Adam 3.0, and Azik had merged with his other soul half. The list of such feats was extensive.
Given this, the only reason Alaric hadn't instantly digested the potion was its inherent difficulty.
"If that's the case, once the old order is restored to this world, my Memory of Time potion might be fully digested," Alaric concluded, a slight smile forming. He then turned his thoughts to the auxiliary materials and ascension ritual for the Sequence 2 Fictionist potion.
"The Fictionist potion requires a [Crystal of the Nonexistent's Mind] and a [Shadow of the Erased's Soul]?" Alaric's expression mirrored a mix of confusion and disbelief, his mind racing.
"The Nonexistent… does that mean someone like Adam? Or perhaps a Angel of Imagination. The Crystal of the Mind is essentially a crystallization of emotions and memories…" Alaric analyzed the materials. "The Erased refers to beings like The Ancient Sun God. The Shadow of the Soul is their imprint on history. Extracting it doesn't harm the individual, but it's incredibly complex."
"These materials are getting more abstract by the minute," Alaric muttered, then turned to the Fictionist's ascension ritual.
The ritual was straightforward, summed up in one sentence: kill a Sequence 0 and erase most of their traces, rendering them a false existence, or help someone become a Sequence 0, fabricate a false past for them, and convince at least a million people of it.
"What a brutally simple ritual. I like it," Alaric said, blinking. Though he didn't fully grasp its significance, past rituals suggested a deeper meaning.
For Alaric, whether killing a Sequence 0 or aiding someone to become one was already on his agenda. He planned to help the Evernight Goddess eliminate the God of Combat and was pushing Medici toward godhood.
Though Medici's ascension ritual wasn't complete, once Intis and other nations were dealt with, it would be within reach.
As for erasing traces or fabricating a past, those were trivial for Alaric.
"At this rate, I'll be a Fictionist in no time. And after that, Sequence 1, Child of Chaos…" Alaric's expression grew odd. "I won't instantly digest it, will I?"
Alaric was self-aware. Nyarlathotep was chaos, and as a fragment of Nyarlathotep, he was, in a sense, a true Child of Chaos.
"Maybe I'll be like Klein, hitting Sequence 1 and instantly ascending to Great Old One?" Alaric mused, rubbing his chin, unsurprised.
For ordinary Beyonders, lower sequences were easier to ascend, with difficulty increasing at higher levels. For Alaric, the reverse was true.
Early ascensions were harder because he hadn't understood his essence. After reaching Sequence 4 and recovering his memories, higher sequences became easier, aligning more with his Nyarlathotep nature.
But this didn't mean he could be careless. Just as the Memory of Time's eon-spanning journey nearly eroded his humanity, the closer he got to Nyarlathotep's essence, the closer he came to madness. One misstep could revert him to Nyarlathotep.
"Good thing Yog-Sothoth's reliable. It shouldn't be a problem," Alaric muttered, leaving the study. As he descended the stairs, he saw Medici approaching, his expression peculiar.
"What's up, Medici?" Alaric asked, puzzled.
"I had a dream," Medici said bluntly, not one for games. "In it, you appeared when Tudor was hunting me, helped me kill Tudor, beat up Amon, and hung Adam up to thrash him. Then we had a feast together… Any idea what that's about?"
Alaric blinked. He knew exactly what Medici described... it was from the millennia-long memory he experienced during his Memory of Time ascension.
Not hiding it, he nodded. "I just went through a rather unique vision... or maybe an illusion."
Curious, Alaric looked at Medici. "It didn't actually change anything for you, right?"
"Nah, just a dream," Medici said, shaking his head. It was a bizarre, chaotic dream.
Upon waking, his past memories remained unchanged... he'd still died in that underground mausoleum. But the dream had erased his lingering resentment, replacing it with a strange eagerness.
Medici admitted he kind of wanted to hang Adam on a lamppost, as in the dream.
"Then let's do it!" Alaric said, catching Medici's thought and egging him on without hesitation. "Sure, he's a three-in-one now, but he's not Sequence 0 yet, right? With Caly, you're not outmatched."
The boost from a Sefirot, even an incomplete one, was formidable.
Medici paused, glancing at the lazy kitten on his shoulder, then grinned recklessly. "That bastard's probably at George III's execution site."
"Let's go nab him!" Alaric said, swiftly opening a spatial door, moving with decisive speed.
***
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