At once, Skullius thought about Quillith and Mohrane, his own heirs. Neither was as powerful as he was, but they had inherited key traits from him.

They were not 100% what he was.

That must have been where the Warmoth faltered. In his haste and hubris, he assumed that just as he was immune to the Cold Oblivion, his children would be too. The negligible deviation between theirs and their father’s genes made all the difference. Thus, all ten of them paid the price. Their mother couldn’t bear the grief.

"She cast herself into the maw of a Lowland Throngrra, dying almost instantly, master told me. Snuck away before I could realize it," said Susu’k.

"I see..."

Skullius drifted closer to the spinning rings and the throne. Susu’k followed.

"Long after, the Jan`ind figured out a way to use Cold Oblivion to look through the Null Verse and pull things adrift in the wider Reality. He could never figure out a way to leave, though."

’Hence the Treasures in the Treasury,’ thought Skullius.

Soon, he was close enough to touch the spinning rings and the Runes embossed on them. He approached no further, however, content only to look upon the great throne and its satellites.

"And that’s where the Warmoth’s obsession with progeny comes from, huh?" he said. "Unfortunately for him, he ended up with someone like me."

"A terrible candidate for a direct heir," said Susu’k. "But a more than worthy successor."

Skullius gave a sniffy laugh.

"I was always going to butt heads with the Warmoth at some point, even if I accepted all of his powers," he said. "Our intentions are not opposed, but I think my ambitions span farther than his at this point."

He’d rejected the pith of the Warmoth’s powers back then in order to keep true to himself.

He’d rejected the ultimate abilities offered by the Warmoth’s species.

He’d rejected the Void rank armour in the Treasury (the one Future Skullius stole).

But it was all for the good.

’Better than that,’ Skullius thought. ’I wouldn’t have wanted my sons to be nothing more than a recurring history – a mirror of the Warmoth’s past. They are better.’

"That said, what does the Warmoth want exactly? I can’t do as I please here, Susu’k, even now." Skullius turned to the Strawler. "Why am I restricted when it comes to resources I have inherited? Earlier, I couldn’t access the Conste in the Timemould Mirror Box as I did before, when I was fighting Fulgardt and the others." He turned to face the great throne, where he could sense an abundant, bounding will. It was tame, at the moment, likely because nothing was provoking it.

"It’s as simple as it is... complicated," said Susu’k carefully. "If my old master’s will was capable of intelligent thought, I have no doubt that he would have surrendered complete control to all three of his dimensions to the current you by now."

"But...?"

"All that remains of the Jan`ind is a will, like an automated mechanism with a set number of triggers and responses. Earlier, when you used the Conste from the Timemould Mirror Box to undo the time-based limitation on your powers, the Jan`ind allowed it because the dignity of the Warmoth was under threat. That’s one of the responses he left behind."

(A/N: Refer to Ch.1655.)

"However, your attempt to do the same thing now is restricted because there is no impending threat requiring such drastic measures, and also because his will cannot recognize your extreme growth in power – which warrants respect."

"Why would that be the case, though?" said Skullius, puzzled. "The Warmoth still expected a progeny, right? That’s how I even have his powers? Shouldn’t he have assigned his will to relinquish total control to me at some point, judging by my strength?"

Susu’k hesitated once more. "There were... criteria to that. If you recall how you were rejected by the armour—"

"Ha!" Skullius’ lip twitched. He understood at once. "I had to be acknowledged by that hunk of metal first, huh?"

"That was one of two criteria the Jan`ind’s will was meant to recognize."

The second was obvious, but it was gone; one of the ultimate skills Skullius received upon becoming the Warmoth’s Progeny: [Bloodline Awakening: Warmoth’s Return].

(A/N: Refer to Ch.1105)

Skullius sighed. One part of him wanted to hate Future Skullius even more than he already did, but another was indifferent. He had stopped giving two socketholes about that Void rank armour since he ascended to Divinity.

As it stood, Skullius no longer had a surefire way to make the Warmoth’s will relinquish control to him entirely... other than perhaps, brute force.

"So essentially, I can only abuse the Conste in the Timemould Mirror Box when the Bosom, the Vault, or the Treasury are in danger?"

"...Yes," said Susu’k... hesitantly.

Skullius sighed.

How annoying. This would set him back by a margin. He needed the Second Phase of the War Body because it was the only one capable of traversing dimensions.

Skullius had unfinished business with Boron’s corpse, which was stuck in the fourth dimension. It had one of the things he needed for the Adaptor Gene.

’I should have extracted his body immediately after killing him, but I just had to deal with Fulgardt first,’ Skullius damn near facepalmed. ’I thought I’d still have time to do it after subduing that Immoral sockethole.’

Hubris...

Sighing again, Skullius drifted close enough to touch one of the spinning rings. Whatever metal was used to craft it was powerful and conductive. He wondered if it even had an equivalent in the wider Reality.

’Oh well...’ thought the Null Devil King. ’Restrictions are nothing new to me.’ He gazed at the great throne. He smiled. ’And I’ve just obtained another piece to my puzzle as a result of this setback.’

Since Susu’k had explained the nature of Cold Oblivion, something Skullius had hoped to explore through [Avant Atelier], the Hybrid had slowly been finicking with the idea.

A poison born from the inverted, perverted genetic makeup of quintillions of Null Life species forcibly subdued by the Warmoth’s own genetic signature...

’I underestimated its potential...’ the Hybrid thought. ’To think I only considered it a poison when I could—’

The thought died there. Suddenly, Skullius’ fascination and excitement were replaced with bloodlust and annoyance.

"I know you’re there. Reveal yourselves already."

"Master...?" Susu’k was confused. He looked around and saw nothing warranting Skullius’ reaction.

The Null Devil King’s pressure flared like a bonfire in all directions, raising Susu’k’s alarm. He shuddered.

What had gotten Skullius so worked up?

A moment later, the will of the Warmoth, enshrined in the great throne, also flared. It had also sensed whatever nebulous enemy Skullius had detected.

’...What?’ Susu’k shrank.

"I said reveal yourselves," Skullius commanded, his voice low and sharpened. "I don’t believe for a second that you let slip that obnoxious sliver of your enthusiasm and expected me to miss it."

...

The silence didn’t pervade for long.

<Would you look at that, DRADPAS? You were right. He’s not as big a fool as I thought.>

...And then the presence of three Primeval Deities invaded the Empyrean Hatcher from higher, complex dimensions, unhidden, untamed, boundless.