Alpens passed through the dense mist as Blood Mist Cups writhed beneath his feet, their tendrils drawing him steadily toward the distant horizon. Each step carried him further from the mortal realm and deeper into realms of mythic power.

The massive Blood Mist Cups beneath him suddenly unfurled, spiraling around his form as they carried him into the depths of the sea, descending ever deeper into ancient mysteries.

When the flower cups finally bloomed open, he found himself standing in familiar surroundings that now held new significance.

This marked his third visit to the Blood Kingdom, yet it was the first time his physical form had directly entered this realm. He felt the crushing pressure of ocean depths, sensed the power radiating from the crimson lighthouse beacon that pierced eternal darkness.

He experienced with newfound clarity the mythical presence at this kingdom’s heart, understanding how this entire Blood Kingdom existed as an extension of that deity’s power.

She could bring everything here to life, this entire island becoming an extension of divine will.

It would devour any who dared intrude upon this sanctuary without proper claim or calling.

This was a deity’s domain, a kingdom beyond mortal bounds where cosmic forces held sway.

Though Alpens knew not what awaited him, he felt no fear. His soul recognized this place as both ending and beginning.

Within the Temple of Truth, the Blood Progenitor watched Alpens’s approach with ancient eyes that had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations. In him, she saw echoes of humanity’s eternal cycle of rebirth and transformation.

She remembered clearly the scene from over a hundred years ago when she walked the earth, choosing a single snake person egg to become the first symbiotic host of the Life Ability Trilobite. That moment had set in motion forces that would reshape the world.

In what seemed mere moments, that child had grown into a man of tremendous presence and capability, his spirit forged in the fires of leadership and war.

Using the power she had granted, he built a kingdom unlike anything in the Yinsai era. His people required no divine power to obtain abundant food, wielded fire with casual ease, and even created fabric without miracles. Each achievement marked a step toward a new age of mortal potential.

Though the Blood Progenitor could not foresee this race’s destiny, she sensed within their civilization a vigorous vitality that promised profound change.

Everything stood poised at the beginning.

Everything remained unknown.

Yet precisely this uncertainty kindled hope and light, for in possibility lay the seeds of transformation.

Lost in their separate contemplations of past and future, Alpens ascended the Temple of Truth step by step until he stood before the Blood Progenitor, each moment heavy with destiny.

Alpens attempted to speak but found water rushing into his body as his mouth opened, the physical world asserting its laws.

Only then did he fully register their submarine location, where normal rules of existence held no sway.

If not for his symbiotic Trilobite bloodline negating his need to breathe and rendering him immune to external pressures, he could never have stood here with such ease.

The Blood Progenitor noticed Alpens’s predicament. Though the ocean waters and pressures meant little more than air to her, they still posed inconvenience to other beings, even those bearing the Life Ability.

Alpens was the first to arrive, but more would surely follow. Each awakening would mark another step in the grand cycle of rebirth.

Her Blood Kingdom would need to adapt accordingly, just as all things must change with time’s flow.

The deity upon the flesh throne raised her scepter, crystallizing layers of blood-colored crystal from the kingdom’s edges to form an enormous bowl inverted against the seafloor. Divine will reshaped reality with casual grace.

All seawater was expelled like an otherworldly tide, leaving them in a pocket of air amid ocean depths.

Alpens stood transfixed as divine power reshaped reality before him, each gesture of the deity’s will bending the very fabric of creation.

He bowed before the deity, mirroring exactly his first pilgrimage to the Mountain of Life’s Origin seeking guidance and inner truth. Though the years between had granted him wisdom, he felt again the profound weight of standing before divine presence.

At last he spoke the words that had caught in his throat:

“Great Scarlet Witch, Blood Progenitor and Queen of the Most Ancient Race.”

“Alpens comes to fulfill his contract.”

The deity upon the flesh throne replied: “I have waited long for you.”

Though her expression remained unchanged, her heart surged with emotion. Each awakening marked both ending and beginning.

After more than a century of waiting, she had finally witnessed the awakening of the first Trilobite. Yet this moment of triumph carried its own uncertainties.

Doubt clouded her heart like shadows in deep water.

Could these awakened ones truly be called Trilobites?

Would they embrace their Trilobite heritage, or identify as snake people?

Or perhaps.

They had become entirely new beings, all former traces erased by history’s relentless flow, merely wearing the name of Trilobite as pretenders to ancient legacy.

She asked Alpens: “Are you truly prepared?”

Alpens answered: “I am prepared, whatever the cost, to honor my contract.”

“I thank you for the power you bestowed. With your gift I achieved all my ideals, building my most glorious kingdom.”

“I harbor no regrets.”

The Blood Progenitor nodded, extending her hand as power gathered around her form.

Immediately, tremendous power stirred the Life Ability within Alpens, awakening forces that had slumbered for ages uncounted.

The mindless yet mighty lifeform that had dwelled within him for over a century suddenly awakened. Crimson energy spread steadily until it covered his entire form, marking the beginning of profound transformation.

Alpens felt his flesh crumble like rotting wood into dust, yet another force, more powerful and resilient, infused that dust, reconstructing his physical form. Death and rebirth danced together in perfect harmony.

In that moment, eternal memories cascaded through his consciousness, each fragment a window into ages long past.

Alpens beheld the primordial earth of two hundred million years past, a desolate wasteland as barren as hell itself. Yet even in that ancient desolation, life found ways to flourish.

Yet upon this dead world, one race had built cities and civilization, defying the very nature of their harsh reality.

Their cities stood tall and mighty, far surpassing those of the Suinhor City-State. Each stone spoke of determination and wisdom earned through countless struggles.

They possessed countless miraculous creations, wielding powers that defied comprehension. Their achievements stood as testament to mortal potential.

Through the mists of time, a profound vision emerged: another version of himself.

He stood face to face with a humanoid being armored in bone, their eyes meeting across ages uncounted.

Though their appearances differed completely, their gazes held the same courage and determination. Each recognized in the other the eternal flame of consciousness that transcended mere physical form.

Though they were separate beings, an essential truth resonated between them, transcending mere physical appearance. Each recognized in the other a mirror of their deepest nature, a reflection of the eternal soul that survived death itself.

A massive blood cocoon manifested within the Temple of Truth, pulsing with heartbeat rhythms that echoed the pulse of creation itself.

The sound grew steadily until reaching its peak before gradually subsiding. The crimson cocoon unwound like silk being drawn away, revealing a new second-rank Life Ability bearer within the temple.

He had become a complete Life Ability bearer, transformed into one of the Most Ancient Race. Each breath drew power from the deepest wellsprings of existence.

His form flowed between aspects like light through crystal, each shape manifesting a different facet of his true nature: the primal power of the Trilobite, the adaptability of the snake people, the divine grace of the Scarlet Apostle. Yet beneath these shifting forms lay an unchanging essence, the eternal truth of his being.

In the end, Alpens’s form settled neither as Trilobite nor snake person.

Instead he took the form of the race of gods, as if this shape approached perfection and offered greatest stability.

This represented the ultimate form of all life.

Yet Alpens bore not only the crimson Trilobite mark upon his back but also a snake person’s mark upon his chest. Each symbol represented a truth of his existence, neither negating the other.

Within his mind, memories of two lives existed in perfect harmony, each enriching and illuminating the other. His present self remained intact while ancestral wisdom flowed through him like a river meeting the sea.

The mythical being rose from her flesh throne, descending the steps one by one.

She gazed at Alpens, a smile gracing her features.

“Welcome back.”

Alpens stood bewildered, still immersed in memories so ancient they defied imagination or tracking.

Enlightenment dawned in Alpens’s eyes as ancient truth crystallized within him.

“In those forgotten ages, I bore the name Spoel Henir.”

Alpens remained motionless, dwelling on everything contained within those memories.

In that past life, he had been a descendant of King Henir.

Born in the Trilobite people’s most glorious era, he witnessed also the sun’s descent into twilight, saw Creator Yinsai’s departure, experienced firsthand everyone’s helpless entry into the God-Forsaken Era.

“The Henir Dynasty, Temple of Truth, Battle of Sacred Mountain.”

“And the God-Forsaken Era that fell like twilight’s sun.”

Ancient weariness weighted Alpens’s words. After a long moment, he finally turned to look at the Blood Progenitor before him.

Or rather, at Vivien, the Third Sage of the Temple of Truth.

Alpens’s previous self had been Vivien’s apprentice in the Temple of Truth, before she attained mythical status, when she led their people in a generations-long battle against Anhofus, the bottled homunculus deity that threatened to devour their world.

Countless sacrifices finally cast that evil god from Sacred Mountain’s heights.

Alpens’s gaze had transformed completely.

His eyes held not worship for a deity but reverence for an elder and truth itself, admiration for one who carried civilization’s torch through darkest night.

This time he offered the formal greeting of a Temple of Truth apprentice, addressing her as a student before the temple’s sage.

“It has been long.”

He lifted his head with a smile, speaking her name with warmth.

“Lady Vivien.”

Hearing this name, the Blood Progenitor’s mouth fell open as an expression of mingled grief and joy crossed her features.

For too many ages had passed since anyone had called her by this name, each year adding another layer to her solitude.

After countless years, two hundred million years after the Trilobite people’s extinction, she finally had kin once more.

The Blood Progenitor asked: “Which name would you prefer?”

“Should I call you Spoel Henir, or Alpens?”

He considered briefly before answering: “I still prefer the name Alpens.”

The Blood Progenitor gazed at him, somehow both understanding and regretful.

She fully comprehended.

Some things, once past, could never return. Time’s river flowed ever onward.

“Why abandon the name Spoel Henir?”

Alpens said: “Because the past has passed. I would not live as another’s shadow.”

He raised his head, his gaze seeming to return to that vast territory, his Suinhor City-State.

“New era, new self.”

“And.”

“New future.”

Alpens then asked the Blood Progenitor: “Lady Vivien, why do you not use the name Vivien?”

The Blood Progenitor smiled, shaking her head.

“I forgot.”

“When I awakened, someone whispered in my ear, telling me.”

“My name was Vivien.”

“Yet I remained uncertain.”

At that moment she caught sight of the statue behind the flesh throne.

She froze, maintaining her turned posture.

Then, she suddenly rejected her previous words.

“No, not uncertain.”

Her eyes grew distant as she studied the statue: “Rather, I wished for one person to tell me directly that I was Vivien.”

“But alas…”

“Her essence has scattered across eternity’s winds.”

“Even should she return, time’s tides will have transformed her into someone else entirely.”

Her ancient gaze settled upon Alpens as she spoke again, her voice heavy with the weight of countless ages.

“Within the depths of my own being, I can no longer distinguish truth from shadow. The self I once was drifts like mist through my memories, forever just beyond my grasp.”

She walked toward the Temple of Truth’s entrance, Alpens following in her wake.

“Everything has changed.”

“The era has changed, the Trilobite people have changed, you have all changed, and even I have changed.”

She stepped through the temple doors, leaving behind only a whispered sigh.

“Time!”

“What a terrifying thing it truly is.”

In the Blood Kingdom, the Blood Progenitor guided Alpens through her realm. Where once he had seen only ancient mysteries and hidden dangers lurking behind every structure, now he found only memories and melancholy.

They entered the ancient castle, and Alpens spoke: “Lady Vivien.”

“This was where we studied. All Temple of Truth students learned divine techniques here, receiving the Will of the Saint’s inheritance.”

“I attended your lectures in this very room. I even remember your teachings on the activation and control of spiritual power.”

They came to the lighthouse, and Alpens gazed upon its towering form. Within its eternal flame burned ancient wisdom, preserved through ages uncounted.

“Sacred texts speak of the Bone Book of Tito enshrined within these walls, its power resonating through time itself. Here Sage Sandean kindled an eternal beacon with the Will of the Saint, calling forth all souls who sought enlightenment’s embrace.”

The Blood Progenitor suddenly recalled something, ancient words rising unbidden to her lips.

“Where seekers of truth gather becomes a temple, and those who raise civilization’s light to illuminate Yinsai become sages.”

These were the words of her teacher, Lan, echoing across centuries.

Then she asked a question that reached into the very foundations of their world.

“What of Yinsai?”

“What was its beginning, its origin? I wish to know more of Yinsai’s story.”

Alpens nodded: “Very well, Lady Vivien.”

“I shall tell you Yinsai’s tale, as I learned it from First Saint Tito’s ‘Hymn of the King of Wisdom’ and the ‘Yinsai Epic.'”

Alpens delved into his memories, carefully arranging the ancient knowledge that flowed through his consciousness.

“We are descendants of Redlichia, the King of Wisdom. Redlichia had seven children. Among them, Ense and Boon sought to kill their father, King Redlichia, and suffered divine punishment. Their descendants became the People of the Abyss.”

“Yesael, the King of Wisdom’s youngest son, inherited the Crown of Wisdom, becoming the second King of Wisdom.”

“Sadly, King Yesael also perished in battle against the People of the Abyss, falling to his brothers’ descendants. The Crown of Wisdom was lost, and no King of Wisdom has risen since.”

“The bloodlines of Redlichia’s other four children established separate kingdoms, beginning the era of the Royal Bloodline.”

As they walked, Alpens unfolded Yinsai’s history, each word carrying the weight of civilizations risen and fallen.

“The Royal Bloodline families warred among themselves for generations, ruling all from on high, unleashing unprecedented catastrophe until King Henir and Second Saint Stan ended their reign.”

“First Sage of Truth Sandean brought forth the light of miracles, opening the path to true future.”

“…”

“The Evil Sorcerer Anhofus, descendant of the Samo family, became Haru’s student. He made myth and immortality reality, creating the first immortal mythical God of Knowledge, also known as the homunculus Anhofus.”

“The Second Sage of Truth Lan, your teacher…”

“At the Battle of Sacred Mountain we…”

“Then came the God-Forsaken Era.”

Figures and eras passed in succession, each giving way to the next like waves upon an infinite shore.

Even speaking only the essential points, Alpens spoke for a long time, stopping only at the beginning of the God-Forsaken Era.

“Alas.”

“I could not witness what followed. I know not what transpired after.”

“When I died, our final plans had barely begun. Even the Seed of the Trilobite remained incomplete.”

Vivien nodded, her mind filling with revelations long denied to her.

She had lost so many inheritances and memories, save for that single strand of consciousness that had cycled for over two hundred million years. Nearly everything else had faded into oblivion.

Together they walked to the cliff face deep within the Blood Kingdom.

The Blood Kingdom had once been the Island of Mist, home to the Temple of Truth, and before that, it was known as the Island of the Dead.

Here First Saint Tito had endured his tribulations.

The cliff once bore a mural depicting First Saint Tito’s audience with the Creator, carved by descendants of the Sala family of the People of the Abyss who had caused Saint Tito’s suffering.

Time had worn away its glory long before Vivien’s original life, leaving only whispers of its majesty in legend.

Yet when the Blood Progenitor looked upon this place, she felt the resonance of ancient purpose, knowing a sacred image should grace these stones.

Though she pondered long, she knew not how to restore it.

So now, arriving here, the Blood Progenitor suddenly recalled this matter and asked Alpens:

“Tell me.”

“Is the Mother of Life truly the Creator who made all things in this world?”

Alpens froze, suddenly sensing something amiss.

His memories as a snake person told him the Creator was Shelly, the Mother of Life.

Yet the memories surfacing in his mind cried out that the Creator was not the Mother of Life, but another, greater being.

It was a name unspoken in this era, in this age.

Though all had forgotten Them, though time had worn away Their earthly traces, none could erase Their eternal mark.

He shook his head, speaking slowly.

“No.”

“The Creator is not the Mother of Life.”

Alpens met the Blood Progenitor’s gaze and spoke the name etched deepest in all Trilobite memory and blood.

“Yinsai.”

“Our kingdom was called Yinsai.”

He interpreted the name’s meaning: “King of Wisdom Redlichia named it thus, meaning the realm that believes in Yinsai.”

“The Creator is not Shelly the Mother of Life, but Yinsai.”

“Origin of all things, supreme deity, eternal star standing above world and time.”

“God Yinsai.”

Hearing this name, Blood Progenitor Vivien rose suddenly.

Looking upon the empty cliff face, visions suddenly bloomed before her eyes.

She saw endless fields of Sun Cup flowers, monuments that spanned civilization, King Redlichia’s statue standing at the foot of a majestic pyramid.

First Saint Tito ascended the pyramid’s steps to seek audience with the supreme eternal deity, Yinsai, Creator of all worldly things.

Ancient memories cascaded through her consciousness, revealing why claims of the Mother of Life as Creator had felt so discordant with truth itself.

She finally understood why she had never dared restore this cliff face.

Deep within her soul, she recognized an eternal truth: the supreme divine throne belonged not to Shelly the Mother of Life, but to a presence so vast and magnificent that Their very existence had become woven into the genetic memory of every Trilobite soul across two hundred million years.

The true Creator of this world, origin of all wisdom and life, maker of all deities.

The Blood Progenitor spoke in rapture: “I remember.”

“I remember everything.”

“God Yinsai.”

“Our Creator. We are Redlichia’s descendants and children, the lineage of God’s firstborn.”

Blood Progenitor Vivien’s voice grew louder, echoing through the entire undersea Blood Kingdom.

For Yinsai’s presence was not merely their faith but the very root and essence of their race and civilization, the foundation anchoring them to this world.

Upon knowing Yinsai, she felt as if a great weight had lifted from her heart.

Alpens asked the Blood Progenitor: “Should we tell Smerkel? Let everyone know of God Yinsai’s existence?”

The Blood Progenitor considered carefully, then shook her head.

“No need.”

“Yinsai is our faith. They have their own.”

“Yinsai is our Creator, while their Creator is the Mother of Life.”

“We walk separate paths.”

“Our destinies diverge.”

The Blood Progenitor approached the cliff face step by step, placing her palm against the stone.

Color and flowing light spread from her touch, gradually covering the entire cliff.

At last the mural was complete.

It bore the distinctive style of Yinsai civilization, magnificent yet weighty, emanating an ancient, profound essence.

The mural showed Sun Cup flower fields and stairs ascending to the clouds.

At the highest point, most prominent of all, stood a temple merged with the sun itself.

The eternal Creator deity, whose form could not be clearly seen, stood upon the divine platform. They seemed to exist beyond this world entirely. Looking upon the platform revealed only endless darkness like the depths of space, and a single star representing eternity.

Below the Creator stood King of Wisdom Redlichia, wearing the Crown of Wisdom, the unique Root Divine Artifact of the Wisdom Ability.

At the Creator’s left foot sat a girl upon the divine platform, the Mother of Life Shelly, wearing a pure white dress and holding the Mother Conch of All Things, the Divine Artifact that created life.

On the right of the divine throne stood an ornate stone chair with an openwork carved back.

A goddess in golden robes cradled a dream egg while sleeping peacefully, her dreams becoming the sea of stars above.

Below knelt two supremely devoted believers.

Saint Tito and Saint Stan.

This mural captured the moment of creation itself, when all possibility first bloomed into being.

Vivien gazed upon this mural as ancient truth settled deep within her soul, completing a circle begun two hundred million years before.

They had recovered what was lost, and found themselves again.

Though time changed all things, though years transformed the Trilobite people and themselves.

Through time’s endless flow, one truth remained immutable and absolute: some things transcended even eternity’s reach.