Serpentine had many theories who rested atop the golden spire.

Perhaps a remnant will of the Architect, an unconscious 'system' like machine that kept everything in check.

Perhaps a God, who was shaped not by faith, but by the vortex of creational energy they erupted with every spin of The Wheel of Faith.

Perhaps a species not even in the canon of wheel faith, something that existed solely in the nexus of faith.

Or perhaps, even the three retconned existences of Faith, Continuum, and Oblivion, which were no longer considered canon.

But he did not expect... whatever it was he was seeing now.

'What on...'

As Deer and Serpentine climbed to the zenith of the golden spire piercing the sky, they were faced with a monumental sight, a view beyond anything the Ascended Demon could have imagined, as his gaze befell a mighty figure.

A colossal, onyx figure laid before them, his translucent, yet luminescent hair of gold grazing the starry river of white, magenta, and midnight navy that hung in the sky above their heads. The being emanated a soft, blackish-gold pulse of energy, a sense of coolness, burning, and stinging pain washing over their flesh and soul. In his hand was a black dice, with golden dots to denote the value of each size, his gaze affixed onto it. He had no pupils, for the entirety of his eyes burnt with a golden flame.

Veins of gold patterned his flesh, like the golden cracks in portoro marble, and his body seemed to be carved from black stone. What's more, his body was... chained. Thick, titanic chains of gold hung, wrapped, and tightened around him, binding his limbs, neck, chest, and wrists, suspending him where he stood.

And behind his head, as if inscribed over the infinite canvas of the night sky, a radiant circle shimmered with ethereal light of gold, a sigil of ancient and arcane power. Its form was intricate, as if a child of order, woven with symbols that whispered forgotten secrets, their meaning voided and obscured beneath the ashes of time, led astray by the games of destiny, and buried beneath the tapestry of fate for eternity to come.

'This is...'

In the center of the design, a radiant star blazed with the brilliance of molten gold, its light pulsing as if the heartbeat of the cosmos itself. Around it, concentric rings spun with delicate precision, each line and curve etched with a craftsmanship beyond mortal hands. The runic symbols glowed within the circles – some familiar, others alien – each one a beacon of energy, pulsing with latent potential. They were sigils of elements unknown, their forms caught between the tangible and the dreamlike, casting shadows that danced with a life of their own.

'There's no way... right?'

The light was a tapestry of gold, shimmering and shifting with every breath of the unseen wind. Where once there had been cool hues of violet and blue, now there was the brilliance of the sun itself – warm, vibrant, and eternal, yet burning, powerful, and ephemeral. The golden glow illuminated the symbols etched within the circle, casting them in sharp relief, each one burning with a distinct, otherworldly fire.

'...but... yeah, no, there's no doubt about this.'

At the outer edge of the circle, sharp geometric patterns spiraled outward, weaving through arcs and lines like celestial vines. They formed a delicate balance of chaos and order, their glowing tendrils reaching out as if to grasp the stars themselves. The circle hummed softly, a low, resonant sound that seemed to resonate in the bones of the spire, filling the air with an unspoken promise of power and mystery, or perhaps, a sweet temptation that lead to ruination .

'This is indeed...'

As the sigil's glow intensified, it seemed to lift from the ground, hovering in the air like a relic of a forgotten age. It was a gateway, a nexus between realms, a place where the veil between the worlds was thin, where magic, chaos, and reality intertwined in a delicate dance of light and shadow.

And at the heart of it all, the ancient circle pulsed – a steady, unwavering, and silent lord of the mysteries that lay beyond the mortal realm, waiting for the one who would dare to unlock its secrets, for fools who didn't belong to this era.

"...the wheel of faith."

Serpentine himself was one such fool, after all.

"But how?" Serpentine questioned, his mind flashing through more possibilities than should be possible, and none of them seemed probable enough.

"...that's what you're concerned about?" Deer's voice echoed from beside him, staring down at him with a weird look.

"I– what!? He's got the freaking Wheel of Faith and wears it like a halo! How could anything be more concerning!?" Serpentine shouted in a whisper, his tone higher than the moon.

As they spoke, a deep chuckle rumbled throughout the spire, making their minds go momentarily blank as they felt themselves bounce in the air, lifted off the floor from the sheer force of the laugh.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The freefall lasted several seconds until the laughter ended, but Serpentine recovered consciousness fast, snapping out of his stun as he balanced himself, dropping back onto the ground with grace, while Deer fell on his butt with humility.

"How do you keep doing that!?" Deer's voice groaned as it climbed a few octaves, the poor spirit rubbing his hips as he spoke.

"The laugh thing? I wanna know too..." Serpentine muttered, summoning the Dragon Slayer Axe in his hands, twirling it in his grasp.

"No, you." Deer growled at the Ascended Demon, pointing an accusatory finger as he did so.

"...huh?"

"How are you not affected in the slightest after seeing this deific monstrosity!?" Deer exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, falling backwards as he now laid on the marble flooring like a snow angel.

Indeed, Serpentine being more curious about the Wheel of Faith – which in hindsight made sense being here as the nexus of, well, the Nexus of Faith – than being shaken or affected by this cosmic, almost Lovecraftian horror was likely not perceived as normal.

Deer probably wanted to give him a scare and shock, revel in this awe, fear, and reverence for a while, but that plan went down the drain as Serpentine was barely surprised by the being's appearance, more so that something of this scale appeared here than the scale itself.

"...with all due respect, I have seen worse." Serpentine scratched the backward of his head.

Like the tapestry of fate, the unsuppressed form of three different Primordials, Shadow of Chaos, and so much more.

"That would explain the lack of reaction." The figure of black and gold chuckled once more, though this time the pair was prepared, not being thrown off.

"So, uh, what exactly are you?" Serpentine questioned, poking the chains with the pointy tip of his battleaxe, prompting Deer to pale slightly.

From Deer's reactions and familiarity, combined with Serpentine's judgement of the being with cold reading and physiognomy, he had judged him to be non-aggressive, at the very least.

"I am... a Primordial." The creature claimed, its obsidian lips curling into a smirk, revealing ebony gums and a tongue blacker than the darkest side of the moon, its teeth shining with a faint golden light.

"...uhuh, and I am The Architect's daddy." Serpentine muttered under his breath, clearly not buying the creature's claim.

The Architect created eight Primordials to aid him in creation, the 'engineers' who realised the architectural design, if that made sense.

The Primordial of Void, from which all of creation stemmed.

The Primordial of Time, from which it all began.

The Primordial of Eternity, who'll see it to the end.

The Primordial of Life, who breathed life into the cosmos.

The Primordial of Death, who made sure everything had an end, inevitably and equal.

The Primordial of Order, who balanced it all and managed the nomology of the cosmos.

The Primordial of Destiny, who rebelled, lost, and was cursed into a mortal form dubbed The Darwizzy, the very symbol of weakness.

And lastly, there was The Primordial of Fate, dubbed The Creator after he inherited The Architect's lingering strength, will, and mantle.

That was it. Eight Primordials – nothing more, nothing less. And Serpentine could bet his tail that this wasn't any of the eight he knew. There was simply no shot in the four planar worlds that he'd forget this El Dorado incarnate.

As if reading his thoughts, the supposed 'Primordial' laughed once more, the spire trembling from the absolute power that pulsed within the laughter.

"Oh, but I am indeed a Primordial... The Primordial of Probability, that is." The supposed Primordial mused, staring down at Serpentine.

'Probability...? Hand on, that sounds familiar.'

"Since when were you a thing?" The Ascended Demon questioned, having lowered his scythe as he scratched his head.

The deific monstrosity simply shrugged. "Season three. I was in the Primordial Wheel, but I wasn't actually ever spun, so they removed me from the lore."

'Ohhhhhhh.'

"...huh. I think I remember that." Serpentine nodded, before pressing on, "Hang on, if you were removed, why are you still here?"

"Because, my little friend, while I do not physically exist in the Wheel of Faith cosmology... the possibility of me does. And that's the domain I lord over." The Primordial of Probability replied, stretching his words to clarify his meanings, much to Deer's chagrin as his internals shook.

"So simply the 'possibility' of something is enough for you to realise it?" Serpentine leaned forward, his eyes sparking as he stared into the gaze of the godlike entity.

"Indeed," the Primordial of Probability nodded, his voice booming, "Every single suggestion in The Wheel of Faith discord ever suggested, every unreached stretch goal in the Kickstarter that could be touched with the help of some generous backwards, and every piece of lore ever scrapped, I embody it all."

Serpentine's eyes widened beyond measure, and the Primordial simply chuckled in response, "And speaking of possibilities, you served up quite the storm in the last event. And the one before that. And the one before that..."

The Primordial trailed off, the Ascended Demon chuckling as he rubbed his head. "I was bored. Anyway, I assume your power is Probability Manipulation, then? How come you only have an Almighty Power, while the rest of the Primordials have Primordial Powers?"

"They don't have true Probability Manipulation," the being shook its monumental head, "They merely weird a limited version of it."

"How is it different from True Probability Manipulation?"

"I could raise the possibility of me getting every ability in the cosmos, including those of my siblings, within the next five seconds from zero to a hundred percent."

Serpentine's jaw hung to the floor.

"I... okay, what the hell, I see why Deer said not even a Primordial would want to mess with you." Serpentine shook his head, before adding, "How come your true form isn't collapsing the whole universe?"

"I turned down the probability of that happening."

"...I don't know what I expected, but that sounds about right." For a moment, Serpentine had forgotten the pure bullshit that was the average Primordial–

Abruptly, Serpentine's eyes shot wide, as he unfolded and flexed all six of his wings, shooting like a jet to the Primordial's eye level.

"Wait, if you are here from season three, despite not being spun sheerly due to the possibility of you existing, then what about the one who actually did get spun?"

The Primordial's smile started to fade.

"What about that guy, is he also–"

"Yes." The Primordial cut him off with a weary sigh. "He's also here."

Serpentine held his breath, as the Primordial confirmed his suspicion. And if that wasn't enough, he added a little garnish.

"After all, you've already met him."

"...what?"

"The Shopkeeper. What was his name?"

At that moment, Serpentine's eyes stretched even wider open, as his shoulders begun to shake.

As if a seal of finality, the voice of the deific monstrosity boomed through the spire.

"Zero: The Primordial of Chaos!"