The mirror dimension shook as power surged through it, causing Zark to reinforce it again. The ascension had begun. As for how long it would take to complete, that would depend on those involved in it.

Ethan’s massive body glowed with a blend of silver and gold as the people around him floated in cocoons. They glowed with deep gold lights as they orbited around Ethan.

"First of all... the Essence," Ethan’s deep, authoritative voice filled the dimension, causing the cocoons to shake and glow brighter.

What was Essence?

Essence was what made a being. It was through the essence that they got a core of their being, and others followed.

By Ethan’s declaration, essence flowed in and out of the cocoons, forming a cycle. The source of the essence was him.

At first, it was subtle; an invisible tide that only the soul could feel. Then the flow intensified. Essence streamed from Ethan’s luminous form like rivers of condensed existence, each strand carrying fragments of identity, memory, instinct, and potential. They did not pour randomly, but recognized their destinations.

The cocoons trembled.

Essence entered them in slow spirals, sinking past flesh and bone, bypassing blood and nerves entirely, drilling straight into the deepest strata of being. Where once there had been crude spiritual frameworks, fractured cores, unstable affinities, and borrowed power, new foundations were being written.

Inside one cocoon, Harley screamed soundlessly as her essence was peeled open. The scream never left her throat; the cocoon swallowed it, transmuted it into light. Her original core shattered like glass, fragments dissolving into the circulating flow. Panic flared for a fraction of a heartbeat, and then order replaced it.

A new axis formed.

Silver-gold essence braided itself into a lattice, a geometrical construct too perfect to be natural. It rotated slowly, each revolution stamping law into her being. Her affinity, her power, once a flickering ember, was seized, compressed, and reforged. It no longer asked permission from the world. The world would answer to it.

Another cocoon pulsed violently, resisting.

This one belonged to Lamair, whose will had been jagged and defiant because of what he was. His essence pushed back against Ethan’s, sparks of discord flashing through the cycle. The mirror dimension cracked, thin fractures racing across its surface like lightning frozen in glass.

Zark grunted, planting both hands into the fabric of the dimensions. Golden runes burned along his arms as he reinforced reality itself, snarling under his breath.

"Don’t you dare break now."

"Please allow me to use at least a quarter of my power..." Zark spoke while looking above him. His golden eyes sharpened as his pupils transformed into spearhead shapes.

"Mm."

That was all he heard, but he understood it. He had gotten the confirmation he needed.

His long hair floated and turned to tendrils of golden energy, so powerful that the very reality around him twisted and reformed continuously.

Behind him, a huge kite-shaped diagram materialized, filled with countless other kites. If Ethan wasn’t occupied, he would have noticed it immediately.

Artims. The representation of god-arts or paths.

Zark’s artim released an aura of sharpness mixed with... protection.

The artim slowly enlarged and covered the whole dimension, successfully sealing it from the world more securely.

After that, he turned to the north, looked up, and genuflected, while the energy around him gradually disappeared.

...

"Second," Ethan continued, oblivious to what was happening outside. His voice was calm and inexorable, "the Core."

The word landed like a verdict.

Essence surged.

Where essence defined what a being was, the Core defined how a being persisted. It was continuity and authority.

The answer to the question: why do you exist, and who says you’re allowed to keep existing?

For most beings, the Core was a compromised, patched-together from inheritance, environment, luck, and theft. For those chosen here, compromise was no longer acceptable.

The Cores were dragged into the open, not physically, but existentially.

Each cocoon turned translucent, revealing a blazing knot at its center. Some were dim and unstable, their light flickering. Others burned fiercely but unevenly, power bleeding out through invisible fractures.

Ethan raised one massive hand. The motion alone caused gravity to invert.

Cores froze mid-beat.

Then they collapsed.

Every core compressed inward, forced to confront itself. Weaknesses were exposed: conceptual rot, contradictions, borrowed authority that had never truly belonged. Those impurities were stripped away, dissolved into raw essence, and fed back into the cycle.

Several cocoons went dark. For a terrifying moment, it seemed as though their occupants had died. The new light ignited.

Cores reformed, not as crude spheres, but as complex structures layered with intent. Some resembled rotating seals, others crystalline matrices, and others still were abstract shapes that defied spatial logic. Each was different, because each will was different, but all shared one trait.

They were anchored... to Ethan. Not as slaves, but as derivatives.

Their existence now resonated with his, harmonized to his frequency. As long as Ethan endured, the path for their continuation would never fully close.

Lamair’s cocoon finally shattered outward in a shockwave of light. His scream tore free this time, echoing across the mirror dimension as his old core disintegrated completely.

For one heartbeat, he ceased to exist.

Then Ethan spoke again.

"Third," he said, and now the dimension itself leaned closer, "the Path."

Paths appeared.

They unfurled from Ethan like vast, glowing arteries, each one a trajectory of becoming. Some blazed with destructive resonance: Paths of Annihilation, Ruin, and Absolute Destruction.

Others shimmered with complexity: Paths of Creation, Dominion, Balance, and Transcendence.

The cocoons were pulled toward them.

’What is happening? This isn’t related to Order or Mysticism!’ Zark, witnessing this, turned to look up at the beings hidden from existence.

’Golden Emissary... Do not interfere again. Fate has gotten involved.’

Zark heard the same voice from earlier in his head, making him widen his eyes in shock. He turned to look at Ethan, noticing the barely noticeable changes in him.

’He’s changing again... to something higher. Meaning someone else would become Primordial Order!’ Zark thought in awe.

Even as an Arbiter, he couldn’t help but be shocked. His mouth was opened in awe at the realization.

Ethan had happened again, as always.