Making Game: CH 166 – The Indifferent Primordial (Patreon)

Dorian stared into the endless expanse of the void. While the other gods of Olympus could easily pass for human despite their divine aura, it was immediately clear that Chaos belonged to an entirely different realm of existence.

Before him hovered a terrifying amalgamation of grey, shifting faces that blended seamlessly into the cosmic dark. As the entity slowly rose, its true form defied mortal comprehension. 

Massive, bat-like wings stretched out from the sides of its head where ears should have been. Embedded in the very center of its chest was a vibrant red stone, or perhaps a lidless eye, pulsing with ancient rhythm. 

A larger eye dominated its forehead, and resting directly on the pupil of that central eye were two smaller eyes, blinking in eerie synchronization. The right side of its body was draped in the edge of a cosmic robe, a fabric that constantly melted back into the chaotic mishmash of abstract flesh and silent faces.

The primordial entity was unbelievably large. Dorian watched in awe as a colossal hand drifted through the dark. Between its thumb and index finger, Chaos gently held a glowing, marble-sized sphere.

The surrounding void shifted, revealing a breathtaking tapestry of stars. At that moment, Dorian realized the background was his actual galaxy. The tiny blue-green speck caught between the primordial fingers was Friton.

Chaos looked around the galaxy, its voice vibrating through the dark. The sound was a multitude of separate voices of varying genders, all speaking in perfect, overlapping unison.

"So many worlds, yet so little free will… Hmmm… I sense a great fate has twisted from your involvement."

Dorian internally analyzed the being before him. Chaos seemed completely indifferent to the physical struggles of mortals. They observed the universe as a grand experiment of choices.

Chaos shifted its gaze directly to Dorian. "The void hasn't been tamed. This universe is in a rather unstable state. What is your goal in bringing me here?"

Dorian took a deep, grounding breath. There was zero point in lying to a being that predated time itself.

"I'm selfish at heart, Master Chaos." Dorian answered honestly. "I just want to take care of the people I love."

The overlapping voices hummed. "Then what of those who you can help? Will you go out of your way to assist them?"

Dorian fell silent. He carefully thought through the question. Should he go out of his way? He had already given the Dagmani the Caliburn VR seat purely so they could help heal their broken comrade. He thought back to the damp, freezing mornings in the sunless lower sectors of Nexus Prime. It had been a very long time since he last felt the sharp, gnawing ache of true hunger.

He reflected on everything he had been doing. His entire journey had started for the sake of his family. He chased a Solar awakening to protect them, only to be let down by the harsh reality of his own physical limits. Then reality handed him the Creator System. Through all the chaos of his new life, his father's words from the night he received the system still rang clearly in his mind.

"What I care about is for my son to be happy."

Perhaps, in his own strange way, his actions were echoing a broader purpose. He was essentially making games to save himself.

A quiet smile touched Dorian's lips. He looked up at the towering entity. "When the time comes to decide, I will decide. I believe I can freely choose what I do, exactly when I choose to do it."

The swirling void around the entity seemed to soften. The crushing atmospheric pressure receded just a fraction.

"Very well," Chaos echoed. "I will see what you achieve."

A dark, beautifully patterned object materialized in the air and floated gently into Dorian's hands. It was the Chaos Egg.

Dorian's eyes widened as he caught the item.

"Hold it when you wish to see me," the primordial entity instructed.

Dorian gripped the smooth shell, instantly realizing its immense significance. With this item in his possession, he wouldn't need to sacrifice his resonance points to enter the Chaos gate again.

He opened his spatial inventory, scrolling through his cache of tools, raw minerals, and processed goods until his fingers settled on a crystalline bottle. He pulled it into the open air. The vessel contained golden Olympian nectar, richly infused with the deep, shimmering violet hue of iridium-grade star wine.

He held the bottle upward with both hands, presenting it toward the shifting tapestry of grey faces.

"Please accept this, Master Chaos," Dorian said, pitching his voice to carry across the endless expanse. "I know this is far from the realm you once inhabited, and mortal drink must seem trivial to an ancient force, yet Dionysus himself considers this vintage to be the absolute pinnacle of brewing. It's the finest thing I can offer."

The multitude of lidless eyes blinking across the central forehead shifted their collective gaze downward, focusing on the small glass container.

"Unnecessary," the overlapping chorus of voices vibrated through the dark, carrying a hint of wry amusement. "How droll of you to attempt tempting me with transient material goods." A colossal hand drifted through the void, its fingertips vast, yet narrowing with delicate precision as the bottle floated gently into an invisible palm. "Even so, allow me this modest attempt at reciprocity."

The bottle vanished into the folds of shifting grey robes.

Dorian let out a quiet breath, a faint smile touching his lips. A lingering weight of responsibility kept him grounded.

"Regarding me bringing you into this reality, Master Chaos," Dorian said, bowing his head slightly. "I apologize. I didn't foresee the consequences of answering that call."

"Apology accepted," Chaos replied smoothly. The dark expanse rippled around them, pulsing like an agitated current. "The native void of this universe has stirred from its slumber. It behaves much like a rabid animal whose territory has suddenly been claimed by another."

Dorian glanced across the shifting dark. "Will you be alright, Master Chaos?"

Chaos tilted their colossal head, the bat-like wings rustling against the empty silence. "You're an unusual soul, child. You express concern for me just as you fret over the mortal you pulled from the dark."

Dorian blinked, his eyes widening. "You watched me when I went to save Logan?"

"I awakened the very day I felt the familiar pull of a void domain," the chorus of voices answered in unison. "The spatial tear drew my slumbering awareness straight to your side."

The revelation clicked cleanly into place. The Chaos Boon had drained his resonance points during the clash with that syndicate assassin, acting as a direct conduit that linked the primordial entity's perception to his own senses.

Sitting down cross-legged on the invisible floor, Dorian found himself talking freely. He explained the corporate greed that triggered the kidnapping, the Ministry's panic over the non-invasive Caliburn architecture, the underground chase, and the frantic confrontation in the shadow fold.

"...and that was how my manager, backed by my lovely Juno and the Apex Guild, managed to pull us cleanly." Dorian concluded, resting his hands on his knees.

Throughout the entire story, Chaos maintained an aura of vast detachment. Yet the swirling faces never looked away. The primordial entity listened in patient silence, letting every detail of the mortal struggle play out before speaking again.

"Did Aphrodite assist you in your romantic endeavors?" Chaos asked suddenly.

Dorian flinched, waving his hands defensively. "No, no. Absolutely not. I would never allow her to meddle with that. At most, she gives me advice on what kind of gifts to buy." He paused, studying the indifferent expression of the towering being. "You don't seem particularly fond of them."

Chaos glanced toward the left, where distant clusters of stars flickered through the dark. "You may take your leave, child. Relieve me of my boredom with more of your mortal adventures."

Dorian pushed himself up from the floor, smoothing out his trousers. He stood tall and offered a respectful bow. "I will be back to tell you more stories. See you next time, Master Chaos."

He focused on his spatial anchor. A pillar of warm silver light enveloped his body, pulling him upward out of the abyss.

Down in the silent depths of the primordial domain, Chaos remained alone. The colossal entity lifted the crystalline bottle of nectar, turning the glowing liquid over in their palm.

Chaos turned their gaze toward the thrashing, agitated currents of the newly awakened spatial rift.

"You had better behave," Chaos whispered to the dark.

…

The pillar of silver light deposited Dorian cleanly back onto the sunlit marble plaza of Olympus. Behind his boots, the golden circle faded into the stone, its dark tendrils dissolving into nothingness.

The Olympian court immediately closed in around him. Zeus leaned forward from his grand throne, while Ares and Athena stepped up to his sides. Hermes hovered right at Dorian's shoulder, his golden eyes wide with eager curiosity. They all waited to hear what had transpired within the primordial dark.

Dorian took a steadying breath and laid out the conversation. He described the shifting faces in the deep, the detachment in their demeanor, the quiet acceptance of the iridium nectar, and the primordial's agreement for mortal stories.

A collective, audible sigh of relief washed through the open courtyard. Even Zeus let his tensed shoulders drop a fraction, the crackle of static around his beard dimming to a faint hum. An encounter with the primordial origin of all things could have turned catastrophic in a single second.

Dorian felt a persistent thrumming sensation beneath his collarbone. He opened his system panel to inspect the gift he had brought back. The Chaos boon was an enduring health blessing. Its potency far surpassed the blessings granted by the Olympian court. The active timer displayed a duration of an entire week, steadily pumping dense vitality through his circulatory system.

Athena folded her arms, nodding with calm satisfaction. "Regardless of their cold demeanor, their presence has tethered our existence directly to this universe."

Dorian closed the status window and looked up. "What do you mean?"

Dionysus chuckled from the base of a fluted column, gently swirling a golden goblet between his fingers. "We can materialize outside the borders of Olympus now, darling."

Dorian's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "You can manifest anywhere you want?"

"Isn't it fantastic?" Hermes laughed, doing an aerial backflip before landing lightly on the balustrade. "I can try your video games, snuggle with a Pokémon, and walk through public concourses with everyone actually looking at my handsome face. My days as a poltergeist are officially over."

Dorian let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Well, Dio here has spent years acting like a wine ghost, quietly lifting bottles out of my father's cellar."

Dionysus offered a sly wink over the rim of his cup. "I truly appreciate you covering for my little escapades."

The mood in the courtyard lifted instantly. Each deity seemed to already be drafting personal plans for how they intended to spend their time walking the mortal world below.

Over the following weeks, subtle tremors rippled across the wider galactic network. Specialized reports began appearing on specialized feeds, noting that an unusual number of Solars were suddenly displaying sharper refinements in their combat arts. 

Granular details were kept strictly classified, which was the standard procedure for anything concerning elite combatants. The central media channels, operating in lockstep with the Stellar Accord, brushed the phenomenon off as the successful outcome of updated government training programs and progressive state initiatives.

Dorian gathered a far clearer picture through his regular evening calls with Juno.

She often shared stories about her demanding shifts at the guild headquarters, venting about the sudden administrative headache of updating member dossiers. According to Juno, Apex operatives across multiple sectors had experienced an unexpected surge in technical proficiency. 

The shadow guards and spatial specialists in particular were operating with unprecedented precision. Their plasma consumption had dropped significantly, allowing them to channel their spatial arts with minimal strain.

Juno had no reason to connect the shift to anything cosmic, remaining completely unaware of the divine pantheon residing in the mountains behind the Kepler farm. Yet every time she shared an anecdote about an operative whose rating needed an urgent upward revision, Dorian recognized the underlying cause.

Inviting Chaos into this reality had sent ripples through the foundational fabric of the galaxy. By pacifying the agitated spatial currents, the primordial entity had made the void far more stable, inadvertently smoothing out the flow of power that Solars tapped into for their abilities.

Dorian didn't regret taking the step. With their presence properly anchored, the Olympians could physically step onto the mortal plane to stand beside him, giving him reliable protection as corporate and political tensions continued to mount.

A fleeting thought of the underworld crossed his mind. He wondered whether he should inquire about Hades, Persephone, and the rest of the subterranean court.

Dorian quietly shook his head. He would hold off for the time being. Just as he had taken the time to understand the Olympians, he needed to grow familiar with Chaos before opening any more doors to the unknown.

…

Weeks slipped by in a blur of render queues and optimization passes. The development pipeline for Pokémon Arena was moving at a staggering pace, and the team was rapidly approaching the launch of their internal beta test.

Throughout the intense production schedule, Ravli had yet to send a single concrete piece of data to Zoye Raves. He kept finding minor excuses to stall, clutching onto his fragile peace for as long as possible.

The midday break in the studio canteen was a vibrant, chaotic affair. The dining hall was packed with people from every department eating, laughing, and swapping stories. The sheer quality of the meals remained a massive shock to the newer developers. 

Instead of nutrient paste or processed protein bars, the studio provided actual, organic food. The robotic canteen compadres glided smoothly along the buffet counters, placing fresh portions of whatever the staff pointed at directly onto their trays. Gawain managed the entire culinary logistics network with flawless precision.

Ravli sat down at a long table, staring at the steaming portions on his tray. He still had trouble believing this was a daily reality. Several developers at the adjacent tables were already getting up for second helpings, a completely natural routine for the veteran staff. Ravli offered a quiet smile to himself. At the very least, he could enjoy these warm moments while they lasted.

The chatter shifted as Liseli and Ross Dalle walked into the dining area. The Art Director and the Sound Director grabbed their own trays and casually dropped into the empty seats right at Ravli's table.

The conversation flowed easily. A few of the junior developers sitting nearby eagerly asked about the history of the studio. They wanted to know how Round Table Studio actually started and how it grew into the galactic powerhouse that inspired so many other creators to follow in their footsteps.

Liseli tilted her head, a nostalgic smile touching her lips. "Well, things were definitely a bit more chaotic back then," Liseli explained. "Even so, I always knew we were going to make a massive mark on the industry. As you all know, the five of us first arrived when Stardew Valley was already released and made its wave. Most of us assumed this was going to be another studio that spent the next ten years just pumping out direct sequels. Then Arthur called us into a holocall and confidently laid out the plan for Hades."

Ravli listened closely as she continued her story. He could clearly picture the tight-knit bond they all shared. They had been together before the massive headquarters was even built. It made complete sense why Arthur had mobilized every resource at his disposal to fight for Logan. They were a family, forged through countless late nights and shared victories.

A shadow suddenly fell over Liseli's shoulder. Arthur leaned down right behind her chair.

"BOO!"

"AAHHH!" Liseli shrieked, nearly dropping her fork. She spun around and punched Arthur hard in the shoulder. "Why is it always me!"

Arthur burst into laughter, rubbing his arm. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. You guys can continue your stories. Don't let me interrupt the lunch break."

"Ah, I've been talking way too much," Liseli said, waving her hand with an embarrassed laugh as Arthur walked away. "Come on, everyone. Let's finish eating before the food gets cold."

Once the break concluded, Ravli disposed of his tray and began the walk back to the art department. He heard quick footsteps behind him. Liseli jogged up to catch his pace, falling into step beside him.

"Hey, Ravli," Liseli said softly. "You are heading back to the Art Wing, right?"

Ravli nodded.

As they walked through the sunlit corridor, Liseli glanced over at him. "Did you end up buying those gifts you were talking about for your kids?"

Ravli widened his eyes. He had mentioned that in passing during a brief, crowded hallway chat several days ago. It was a completely trivial detail, yet she had remembered it perfectly. A genuine smile broke through his lingering anxiety, warming his chest.

"Yes," Ravli said quietly. "I think they really liked them."