Time since the asteroid hit Earth: ~4.5 billion years (subjective to Aryan)
The Xari named their mission **"Project Homecall."**
To them, the signal wasn't a warning — it was an invitation.
Aboard a newly-forged vessel, built from anti-neutron lattice and grief-forged alloys, their first inter-universal ship was born: **NX-∞**.
Aryan hovered at the edge of existence, watching them prepare.
> "This is absurd," Aryan muttered. "They're still infants playing with cosmic fire."
> "So were humans," Light God said, floating beside him in a bathrobe, sipping a drink from a mug labeled *#1 Multiverse Uncle*.
> "This is different. The Primogenitor Relay isn't part of this reality."
> "Exactly! Adventure time!" Light God shouted, holding up a glittery sign that read: **Drift Trip Begins**.
Aryan debated whether to interfere. But something in his core — perhaps curiosity, perhaps destiny — urged him to follow.
As the Xari ship crossed the edge of their reality, it vanished.
Aryan blinked — and found himself pulled too.
Not by will.
By force.
The **Origin Drift** was not a location.
It was a consequence.
A pocket of compressed timelines, gravity-choked paradoxes, and dead universes. It was where all failed creations bled into one another.
Aryan felt his form stretching — not physically, but conceptually.
He was **becoming questions** instead of answers.
> "What is this place?" he asked, his voice echoing as formulas.
> "The lost attic of creation," Light God replied, now dressed as an interdimensional janitor. "Old blueprints. Abandoned scripts. Cosmic typos."
Inside the Drift, Aryan saw them:
Ruins of civilizations that predated time.
DNA strands woven with dark energy.
Statues of beings with no dimensions, locked in mid-prayer.
And in the center: a silent structure floating atop a white flame.
A monolith with a single phrase etched across it:
> **"To the One Who Comes After."**
> "This wasn't meant for me," Aryan whispered.
> "Or maybe it was," Light God said. "Because *they* knew… someone would try again."
Suddenly, Aryan felt presence — not a being, but a memory of intention.
The Primogenitor Relay wasn't just broadcasting.
It was *searching* for a successor.
A pulse ran through Aryan's core. His knowledge, his creation, even his pain — all began syncing with the Drift.
> "They want me to finish what they began."
> "Congratulations," Light God said, saluting. "You just got promoted to Legacy Architect."
> "No," Aryan said. "I haven't earned that title yet."
He looked out across the shattered remnants of pre-existence.
> "But I will."
— End of Chapter 12