Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 596 596: ORIGIN RANK

"He came to my turf, and I dealt with him as I saw fit," the endless sea of antimatter spoke.

"And yet, you did not completely erase his soul," the unknown, unseen being questioned.

"I did what was necessary," the sea of antimatter replied.

"He was peculiar—a flicker of something intriguing in an otherwise dull existence.

I decided to make him owe me instead of simply snuffing him out."

"And then you gave him a mark," the hidden being accused, the air growing heavy with static.

"Your reckless actions have caused a massive ripple in the eternal, still pool of causality.

You have disturbed the balance."

"Indeed.

I am well aware."

"Good.

Because you will be facing a heavy punishment once this matter has been reported to the Higher Authorities."

"Are you quite sure you want to do that?" the antimatter sea mused, its tone shifting to something dangerously playful.

"Are you threatening me?"

"You are right about one thing," the sea of antimatter informed, ignoring the challenge.

"I did give him a mark.

But I was not the only one to do so.

I wasn't the only one who gave him a mark."

"You...!"

The unseen being's voice faltered, replaced by a sudden, sharp intake of breath.

"I had to mark him!

It was the only way to ensure the execution of my tasks!"

"And yet, you failed," the sea rumbled, a sound like grinding mountains.

"Now, we have both committed high treason by marking the same vessel individually.

Sure, I will be punished, but your fate won't be any better.

We are both bound to this transgression now."

"You... you will regret your actions!" the unknown being promised, voice trembling with a mixture of fury and burgeoning dread.

With a final, violent ripple in the atmosphere, the presence vanished, leaving the primordial dawn of the universe in silence.

"Aaron Highborn, huh?" the sea of antimatter muttered, its vast surface returning to a deceptive, glass-like calm.

"The one without fate.

Perhaps you might be able to stop them... and finally free me from this prison."

---

Back in the present reality, Aaron stretched his hand out, his very pores acting like a vacuum as he devoured the last remnants of an Absolute.

His physique hummed, absorbing the raw power until the enemy was nothing but a memory in the wind.

"Hmm.

So that is their main base," he muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

"Time to pay them a visit."

He prepared to execute a Void Step, but before his foot could even leave the ground, he was struck by an unknown, celestial pressure.

It hit him with the weight of a collapsing galaxy, crushing his form into absolute nothingness for a terrifying, fleeting second.

As he began to reform, he felt a crushing weight dwelling on his shoulders.

With it came a jagged sliver of a lost essence—the fractured soul of Nightflame.

"Ahhhhhh!!!!"

The moment the soul merged back into his being, Aaron was plunged into a symphony of agony.

It was the worst pain he had ever endured—a searing, soul-deep burn that made his previous battles feel like a caress.

Floating in the air above him, glowing with a malevolent, ancient light, were two distinct marks.

They were complex, shifting geometries that defied the laws of physics, appearing ancient and impossible to comprehend.

The two marks, recognizing each other as rivals, suddenly clashed in the air.

They sparked and roared, fighting for dominance over the vessel beneath them, but neither could gain the upper hand.

They were two immovable objects locked in a stalemate.

Aaron could do nothing but stare at the warring sigils, his body trembling in excruciating pain as the metaphysical battle raged above him.

Finally, realizing they could not defeat one another, the marks reached a silent, forced truce.

They decided to merge separately into his very being.

One mark dove into Aaron's right eye, while the other surged into his left.

The moment they struck, the pain vanished instantly.

The marks disappeared completely, leaving no trace on the surface of his eyes, as if they had never existed at all.

Aaron gasped, staggering to his feet as the pressure lifted.

As the sliver of Nightflame's soul integrated into his consciousness, a flood of information poured in.

He saw Aegon's betrayal, the trap, and the ultimate sacrifice of his clone.

"The Defect Entity, huh?" Aaron muttered, a dark, knowing smile spreading across his face as he tested his new strength.

"I should visit that place when I have the time.

But first..."

He stretched out his hands, and for the first time, he didn't need a spell or a medium.

Raw antimatter coiled around his fingers, dark and terrifying, yet as docile and obedient as a well-trained hound.

"This is the greatest gift of them all."

Just like Aegon, Aaron had finally grasped the impossible: the ability to command antimatter.

It no longer felt like a foreign, destructive force, but an extension of his own will.

"Hmm.

This should speed things up," Aaron muttered, a cold pragmaticism settling over him.

Void stepping with a precision he hadn't possessed before, Aaron materialized at the very heart of the House of Terrace.

The architecture was ancient and imposing, built from materials meant to withstand the end of time, but to Aaron, it looked like fragile glass.

"An Absolute dares to attack the House of Terrace?" a Transcendent appeared before him, his voice echoing with a mixture of shock and disdain.

He was the Butler of the House—the one responsible for the smooth operation and absolute security of the estate.

He radiated a refined, dangerous aura, the kind of power that usually sent Absolutes scurrying for cover.

"Don't waste my time.

Let's get this over with," Aaron said calmly.

He didn't draw a weapon.

Instead, he simply extended his hand, shaping his fingers into the form of a gun.

With a soft hiss of displaced reality, he fired a bolt of raw antimatter from his fingertips.

"You really think your primitive abilities stand a chance against a Transcendent?" the Butler asked, an insufferable air of arrogance clinging to him.

He didn't even move to dodge.

Aaron refrained from answering, allowing the man to wallow in his misplaced superiority for one final second.