(note: changed aspect legacy name from [memories of the past] to [last testament] because it sounded better).
–––
Chapter 18: Testament.
For a full suspended minute, Hugo's eyes remained locked on the runes as He read them over and over, his mind struggling to process their existence, half-expecting them to dissolve into nothingness like a cruel mirage.
An Aspect Legacy…
It was an extraordinary thing to have, Even possessing a Divine Aspect did not guarantee such a thing —not that Hugo knew many things about divine aspect wieldees— but To have an Aspect Legacy was a rarity so profound that those who bore them became the founders of Legacy Clans with most of them being of the transcendant rank. their names forever etched into history And here he was, a Sleeper with one burning in his soul.
The sheer, impossible weight of it left him genuinely bewildered, the air in his room suddenly feeling thin and significant.
Finally, he forced his mind to focus and read the runes.
Aspect Legacy: [The Last Testament]
Aspect Legacy Description: [I, the First Thinker, have foreseen the end and could not stop it. And so, I leave this record. Let this stand as my testament against the vile strings of fate and the one who weaved them. Within this record lies the proof of our world and the hope for what may one day be again. You who are reading this is the testament of our existence. So I beg of you, whoever you are, Do not fail us.]
First Playlist: [Locked]
Second Playlist: [Locked]
Third Playlist: [Locked]
Fourth Playlist: [Locked]
Fifth Playlist: [Locked]
Sixth Playlist: [Locked]
Seventh Playlist: [Locked]
Hugo let out a slow shaky breath. He didn't even know what to be surprised about anymore. The shocks were piling up, one after another with each one being more monumental than the last.
The first thing that truly struck him, beyond the message itself, was the medium used in writing it.
These runes were… wrong. They weren't the familiar, imposing golden script of the Nightmare Spell. This text was woven from a shimmering, celestial blue light—the exact same hue as the core of the Omnitrix on his wrist.
The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow: these runes were crafted from Omni-Energy. They were a part of his Aspect, an internal system manifesting, completely separate from the Spell's authority.
The knowledge felt… implanted, as if the Omnitrix itself had forced the understanding into his mind the moment he saw it.
it was a fundamental truth he accepted instantly Feeling ad if these runes were meant for him and him alone.
But that revelation was swiftly overshadowed by the content of the message making Hugo's head spin with dozen of unanswered questions.
'…Just who exactly were you, First Thinker Azmuth?'
He had known Azmuth was a figure of immense importance from his First Nightmare, an entity conspicuously absent for reasons the trial never explained.
He had assumed it was because the Spell, not being an executioner it was would not replicate a being of such magnitude for a mere Sleeper's trial. That had seemed logical then And in a sense it was still is.
But Hugo was not sure anymore. He was not sure of a lot of things after each revelation he received.
He slowly pieced together the fragments he knew replaying everything he knew from the nightmare and the spell's descriptiow.
Azmuth was Albedo's and Vilgax's mentor making connected to the two most important figures within his first nightmare. He was also the creator of the Omnitrix, the first Divine Relic forged by mortal hands—which meant he wasn't a god, or at least, not one the Nightmare Spell recognized— And most crucially… he had foreseen the end.
The true End that destroyed all uncorrupted life from the dream realm.
And he could not stop it.
The implications settled over Hugo like a shroud, a profound and strange sadness seeping into him. He was staring at the last will and testament of an entire age, an entire world.
He imagined them not as gods or monsters, but as people. Beings who lived, built, loved, and feared their vibrant world which was now reduced to a death zone infested with abominations and people themselves became said abominations.
Their lives were destroyed by… something. A force so absolute it had consumed even the gods not even leaving behind any corpses.
this created a terrifying contradiction that made Hugo's blood run cold.
'But that doesn't make any sense… there was that transformation within the Omnitrix...'
He remembered the entity he had witnessed during the strange dream like vision.
the dark, galaxy-spanning deity whose very presence had threatened to unmake his sanity.
'Why couldn't Azmuth use that? He was the creator of the Omnitrix after all, so surely he had access to its full power...'
Hugo's mind raced, desperately searching for a loophole, For another explanation, anything but the obvious, chilling truth that was staring him in the face.
The god within the Omnitrix had not been enough to stop the end.
The true gods themselves were not enough and fell as well... .
' just What kind of cataclysm could do that?' he thought, a spike of frustrated anger piercing his awe. 'How did the gods die? And how could a genius who built a Divine Relic just… accept the end of everything?'
Instead of a final, universe-shattering battle, Azmuth's last act was one of profound tragic preservation. He had created a message in a bottle and cast it into the far future.
The truth of the Omnitrix finally crystallized in Hugo's mind, sharp and painful. It was not a weapon born of ambition like albedo had thought.
It was not a tool for conquest like vilgax had sought to use it.
Instead It was a record.
A tombstone for a dead World, A desperate defiant act of remembrance so that someone, someday, would know they had existed.
This revelation pierced Hugo to his core, drowning him in a riptide of questions that had no answers. What were the "vile strings of fate"? Who had weaved them? And What did the end even look like?
He was merely a boy from a half dead civilization himself and so these questions were not something he could answer now... If ever .
For ten long minutes, he did not move, petrified on the edge of his bed, the weight of a thousand dead worlds pressing down on him.
Then, a colder, more pragmatic thought emerged, a lifeline of skepticism. 'No… wait. Am I even the true wielder of the Omnitrix?'
His Aspect, the Omnitrix, was something he had gained during the First Nightmare through strange methods.
The nature of the Nightmares was still a profound mystery, Most believed them to be intricate illusions conjured by the Spell, elaborate tests with a beginning, a goal, and an ending to forge a stronger aspirant.
It was a comforting thought, one that helped Sleepers justify the horrors they committed and witnessed within them.
So, What if the Omnitrix he wielded was not the original but instead a perfect copy forged by the Nightmare Spell? A replica of a legendary weapon, granted to him only because his soul was, by some bizarre chance, a compatible vessel? He was just lucky—or perhaps cosmically unlucky—to have stumbled into it.
The thought was simultaneously humbling and unsettling. 'If that's the case… then where is the real Omnitrix? And who was its wielder? Did they fail? Did they die?'
Once again, the cycle repeated itself. A moment of clarity, followed by a deeper, more frustrating abyss of questions with no way to find their answers.
He let out a groan of pure exasperation, running his hands through his hair. He was trying to solve a cosmic murder mystery with only a single, cryptic clue, and he didn't even know the language it was written in.
---
After a while, Hugo forcibly wrenched his mind away from the unsolvable puzzles of the dead.
He was a Sleeper. His world was frighteningly small and immediate: survive the Winter Solstice. Everything else was a distraction he couldn't afford even though he did not like it.
His plans for runic sorcery were delayed due to circumstances, so he turned to the next best thing: utilizing the arsenal he already possessed.
Specifically, one particularly versatile Memory.
A shimmering red ruby crystal materialized in his palm, catching the light, its facets gleaming with latent potential.
This was the [Polymorphic Crystal], his reward for slaying Albedo. Its sheer versatility arguably placed it above the [Proto-Tech Armor], but he wasn't yet sure if it was more valuable than the raw, destructive power of [Conqueror's Wrath] charm.
The Memory had four enchantments, but the one that captivated him was [Upgrade]. The description was deceptively simple: [This memory can upgrade any non-sentient object.]
An augmentation-type Memory for his gear was obviously an invaluable advantage on the dream realm so he was naturally Eager to test it.
he summoned the [Proto-Tech Armor]. The sleek, blue-and-black assembly appeared in a cascade of white sparks, settling into his frame. Hugo exhaled, focused, and then pressed the crystal against the chest plate having been granted the knowledge of how to use the enchantment by the spell.
The reaction was immediate. The crystal flared with an ominous red lght blinding Hugo for a moment. It then proceeded to leap from his hand as if pulled by a powerful magnet, phasing directly into the armor.
The entire suit was instantly encased in a shell of crimson energy and Hugo felt a distinct shift—a subtle vibration as the Memory's structure was reinforced
Curious, he summoned its runes.
Memory: [Proto-Tech Armor]
Rank: Ascended
Memory Type: Armor
Memory Description: [Despite their lack of physical prowess, the Galvans were hailed as among the greatest of the gods' creations due to their intelligence, and as such, their inventions were simply unmatched throughout all the realms.]
Memory Enchantments: [Modification], [Polymorphic Crystal]
A satisfied, if weary, smile touched his lips. It had worked splendidly.
The armor was now Ascended-rank, a significant boost to its durability that would make him nigh invincible for most awakened abominations.
And naturally, If the [Upgrade] enchantment worked on Memories, it would likely work on other non-magical objects as well, a boonthat would certainly come in handy in the future.
He focused on the new [Polymorphic Crystal] enchantment line interested by what new powers the armor gained.
[Polymorphic Crystal] Enchantment: [This armor has been upgraded by [Polymorphic Crystal], gaining its abilities.]
Satisfied, he mentally willed the crystal to separate from the armor which instantly made a strange thought appeared in his mind
The process of activating the enchantment had required no Soul Essence. Which was unusual.
'Is it due to the Memory's unique nature? Or did the Spell just… not account for this?'
Not wanting to question the inexplicable mechanics of the omnipresent entity that governed his life, he decided to simply accept the gift.
A new, ambitious idea sparked within him, eager to test the boundaries of the crystal
He quickly summoned [Conqueror's Wrath], a beautiful green necklace with a strange tentacle wrapped around it materialized in a small burst of white light t. His heart hammered against his ribs at the thought of possessing a transcendant charm as a sleeper.
That mixed with his transformations would elevate him to the rank of ascended which would make his life way easier.
But the hope was immediately crushed just as swiftly as it was born.
[Conqueror's Wrath] was already an Ascended Memory and [polymorphic crystal] was an awakened rank memory.
And as it turned out A Memory of a lower rank could not elevate one of a higher rank. The logic was inexorable, and he should have known better. This also dashed any fleeting fantasy of using the crystal on the Omnitrix itself. The relic while bound to his rank, was still Divine in its origin.
And You couldn't upgrade a star with a matchstick.
'Well,' he thought, a dry, sarcastic edge creeping into his internal monologue as he thought about the absurdity of his day
'I suppose this it for today. Let's see... I fought an awakened who transformed into a bear then Went to study runic sorcery but instead Got knocked unconscious by a flying textbook, Had a onse sided chat with a primordial god trapped in my wrist, Then unlocked my aspect legacy while discovering that I'm wielding a copy of the greatest creation of the smartest being to ever exist, which is basically a tombstone for every race that died in a apocalypse I don't understand.'
He looked down at the Omnitrix, its blue icon now feeling infinitely more ancient and heavy then it did a few days ago.
'Yes. A perfectly normal day in the life of a Sleeper.'
