The Zenith Star did not travel through space so much as it folded the universe to its will. Inside the observation deck, Austin watched as galaxies blurred into streaks of iridescent light. Beside him, his father, Amon, was currently holding a holographic scanner, frantically checking Austin's biological markers.
"Father, I've told you six times in the last hour," Austin sighed, his Earth-soul feeling a headache brewing. "I am perfectly healthy. My Level 1 attributes are already stabilizing."
"Healthy?" Amon's eyes widened with genuine panic. "Austin, your Vitamin D levels from that pathetic Azure sun are 0.0002% below the Zenith standard! If your Great-Great-Grandfather sees this, he'll execute the entire medical board of the 7th Metaverse!"
Austin leaned his head against the cool, crystalline glass. He had forgotten. The "Original" Austin hadn't just run away for freedom; he had run away because being the Golden Child of the Zenith Family was like being a prize-winning kitten in a house full of over-excited giants.
The Homecoming
As the fleet exited the hyper-lane, the "Elares" system came into view.
It wasn't a solar system. It was an Architectural Miracle. Seven artificial suns, each burning with a different elemental hue—gold, azure, violet, crimson, emerald, silver, and obsidian—rotated around the central world of Elares. The planet itself was so vast that its gravity should have collapsed into a black hole, but it was held together by the sheer willpower of the Family Founder.
"Look," Amon whispered, pointing toward the planet's atmosphere.
Austin groaned. Visible even from space, millions of star-ships had been arranged in a formation that spanned several light-seconds. Using high-intensity plasma flares, they had spelled out a message in the ancient language of the Primordials:
[WELCOME HOME, OUR TINY MIRACLE! WE DIDN'T CRY ONCE (WE LIED)!]
"Is that... is that supposed to be subtle?" Austin asked.
"The Patriarch wanted to use the Antiverse's Nebula to write it," Amon said seriously, "but the Founder told him it might be too 'dim.' So they settled for this."
The Landing
The moment the Zenith Star docked at the Imperial Spire, the atmospheric seal hadn't even finished hissing before the door was practically torn off its hinges.
"MOVE! MOVE ASIDE, YOU INCOMPETENT FOOLS!"
A man who looked to be in his sixties, radiating a pressure that made the very air of the hangar crystallize into divine diamonds, charged into the bay. This was the Patriarch, the Great-Great-Grandfather who ruled the conquered Multiverses with a cold, ruthless efficiency.
Currently, that "cold, ruthless" ruler was sobbing.
"MY LITTLE LIGHT!" the Patriarch wailed, his voice causing the hangar's structural supports to groan. He blurred across the distance and scooped Austin up into a bone-crushing hug. "Look at you! You're practically transparent! Did they feed you dirt? I bet they fed you dirt! I'm going back to Azure to grind that planet into seasoning for my tea!"
"Grandpa... can't... breathe..." Austin wheezed. His Myriad Realm Unfettered Body was the only reason his ribs didn't turn to powder.
"Look at his clothes!" a female voice shrieked. A group of Elders—beings who had lived for eons and forgotten the meaning of fear—descended like a flock of panicked birds. One Elder, a man known for destroying an entire rebel metaverse with a single finger, was currently brandishing a silk robe woven from the dreams of a Goddess.
"Strip him! Quickly! These commoner rags are giving me a soul-migraine!" the Elder cried.
"Wait! He needs nourishment first!" another Elder countered, shoving a tray of Dragon-Heart Peaches (which granted 10,000 years of lifespan per bite) into Austin's face. "Eat, my child! Eat until your existence value doubles!"
Austin was buried under a mountain of legendary-grade silks, divine fruits, and sobbing ancestors. He looked at his father, Amon, pleading for help. Amon just shrugged and mouthed, 'I tried to warn you.'
"Enough."
The word was a whisper, yet it silenced the hangar instantly. The Patriarch froze, still holding a peach to Austin's lips. The Elders stood perfectly still, like statues.
A young man, looking no older than nineteen, stepped through the crowd. He had white hair that flowed like a river of starlight and eyes that were completely black, save for the swirling galaxies within them. This was The Founder. The No. 1 existence. The man who had started the Zenith lineage before time was even a concept.
The Founder walked up to Austin. The Earth-soul within Austin felt a strange, deep resonance. The Founder didn't hug him. Instead, he reached out and flicked Austin's forehead.
"You stayed away for three years," the Founder said, a small, mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "The Patriarch cried so much he flooded the 4th Multiverse. Do you have any idea how much paperwork that is?"
"I wanted to see if I could stand on my own, Great-Gramps," Austin said, rubbing his forehead.
The Founder's gaze shifted, looking deep into Austin's soul. He saw the Earth-soul. He saw the Primordial Chaos Overlord class waiting to be birthed. He saw everything.
"You found what you were looking for," the Founder whispered, so only Austin could hear. "The 'Original' boy was a dreamer. You... you are a conqueror. I like this version of you better."
The Founder turned to the family. "The boy needs his Awakening. If he stays here any longer, you'll turn him into a pampered house-cat. Take him to the Origin Archives of Elares."
The Patriarch gasped. "But he just got back! Can't we have a feast first? I've already captured three Solar Krakens for the appetizers!"
"The Archive," the Founder repeated, his voice gaining a slight edge. "Now. Before I decide to 'pamper' you all with a trip to the Void Pits."
The family scrambled. Within minutes, Austin was whisked away toward the most sacred site on Elares.
The Origin Archives
Austin stood alone in front of a door made of pure, solidified Time. This was the entrance to the Elares Archives, a place where the Origin Will was at its most concentrated—the Transcendence Tier.
"Remember, Austin," the Founder's voice echoed in his mind. "The Archive will offer you skills based on your Existence Value. Since you are Primordial, don't settle for anything that doesn't make the universe tremble."
Austin took a deep breath and stepped through.
The world of Elares vanished. He was standing in a white void. Floating before him were three glowing spheres of light, each containing the "Starter Skills" of a God.
[DETECTING PRIMORDIAL HEIR...]
[ACCESSING HIGHEST TIER ARCHIVES...]
[GENERATING STARTING SKILLS: RANK - PRIMORDIAL.]
Austin looked at the first sphere. This was it. The moment the "Game" truly began.