Chapter 280: Chapter 280 Farm
Riley returned to his chambers and closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet space.
The room was still and dimly lit, a perfect place for introspection.
He sat down cross-legged on the floor and shut his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath.
Within seconds, his mind dove inward, into the sea of memories he had inherited from the Ancient One—a vast and boundless archive of knowledge, experiences, and emotions spanning eons.
He focused completely, sifting through ages of existence in search of even the smallest clue—something, anything—that might reveal the origin of Sunny, the ugly monkey who seemed to know far too much.
Minutes slipped by like grains of sand in a bottomless hourglass.
Eventually, Riley opened his eyes and exhaled heavily, rubbing his temple with a sigh.
"So even the Ancient One didn’t know where that monkey, Sunny, came from..." he muttered bitterly.
It was a truth that unsettled him.
The Ancient One—the first and only being to awaken in the void—had existed longer than time itself.
Born without context, without purpose, he had roamed the endless darkness, searching for meaning, for companionship, for even a whisper of something beyond himself.
For countless trillions of years, he drifted alone, his consciousness expanding, reaching, and probing the great nothing.
He had spoken to stars before they were born, listened to the silence between dimensions, and touched the fabric of creation when it was still soft and pliable.
And yet, he found no one—no equal, no companion, no rival.
Loneliness, in time, gave way to creation.
The Ancient One built a realm—a sanctuary of thought, matter, and life.
He shaped mortals from fragments of his imagination and gave them hearts and dreams.
He lived among them, not as a god but as one of their own.
He tasted mortal joys, suffered mortal sorrows, and wept mortal tears, all in pursuit of understanding what it meant to exist beyond omnipotence.
But nowhere, in all his journeys and experiments, had he encountered another primordial being. Until Sunny.
That was what made Sunny’s appearance so disturbing.
The monkey was not born of the Ancient One’s will, nor of the realm he created.
He simply was—as ancient, if not older, and cloaked in a mystery even the Ancient One could not unravel.
Initially, the Ancient One had welcomed him, even delighted in the idea that he was no longer alone.
But it hadn’t taken long for suspicion to take root.
There was something about Sunny’s gaze, his knowing smirk, and the subtle malice behind his words that suggested darker motives.
And those motives had revealed themselves far too late.
Now, that monkey had slipped beyond Riley’s reach, beyond even the authority and power of the Ancient One’s lingering presence.
"I guess it can’t be helped..." Riley murmured, slowly rising to his feet. "Let’s try again."
Extending his hand, he summoned thousands of spectral lights—clones of himself, each a fragment of his consciousness molded for reconnaissance.
They scattered to the edges of his realm, slipping through the cracks of reality to monitor every shadow, every disturbance that could hint at Sunny’s location or goals.
Their sole purpose was to observe, record, and report. No confrontation. Not yet.
Only understanding.
With that done, Riley slumped into his seat, the weight of responsibility pressing against his shoulders like a mountain.
He knew he couldn’t allow himself to be consumed by fear.
The Ancient One had lived alone for countless ages, never retreating despite the emptiness.
Now it was his turn to carry that torch, even in the face of uncertainty.
He wasn’t just a successor.
He was the realm now.
And he would not spend his days hiding in dread.
Whatever Sunny planned—whatever storm brewed on the horizon—he would meet it with open eyes and steady hands.
For now, Riley chose to live.
Not as a god. Not as a puppet of fate.
But as himself. A moment later he remembered something that got him curious.
"I wonder how they’re doing now..." Riley murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he stood in the stillness of his private sanctum.
It had been a long time since he had last thought about Earth, the planet where his journey began.
Back then, he had been just another orphan wandering through life, unnoticed and unloved.
No family. No close friends. No attachments.
Just a single soul trying to survive in a world that hardly knew he existed.
Yet now, with power beyond mortal comprehension flowing through his veins, curiosity stirred in his heart.
He sat down, legs crossed beneath him, and closed his eyes.
With a single breath, he released his divine sense into the boundless cosmos.
It expanded outward like a wave of light, passing through countless realms, traversing dimensions, brushing past stars and ancient voids, until—at last—it found its destination.
Earth.
But it was no longer the Earth he remembered.
The image that formed in his mind’s eye was astonishing.
The once-familiar planet had become a technological marvel, a shining jewel of advancement and ambition.
Towering arcologies pierced the sky, artificial rings orbited the planet like halos, and colossal space elevators stretched from the surface to orbital platforms teeming with life and trade.
Cities were alive with vibrant energy, powered by fusion cores and artificial suns.
AI governed public infrastructure, while humanity moved in harmony with machines, no longer bound to the limitations of biology.
Above the Earth, gargantuan warships floated like celestial titans.
They carried humanity’s banner to the stars, establishing colonies and forward outposts in distant galaxies.
Dyson spheres and starlight harvesters blinked in the far reaches of known space, all linked back to Earth—now the cradle of an intergalactic civilization.
Riley watched all of it silently, unmoving.
A sense of awe welled within him—not envy or longing, but something gentler.
Something proud.
Even without him, they had made it.
They had risen.
Of course, there was nothing tying him back to that world. He had no family there. No roots.
He had left that life behind a long, long time ago.
There were no parents waiting for his return. No childhood home to revisit.
The streets he once walked were long gone, paved over and replaced by floating skyways and digital districts.
To them, he was a ghost—if he had ever been real to them at all.
And yet... he smiled.
It was a soft, bittersweet expression, one of distant affection for a place that no longer remembered him.
"I guess they didn’t need me," he said quietly. "That’s good."
He lingered a moment longer, observing the gentle blue glow of Earth from orbit, watching fleets come and go, children play beneath artificial stars, and scientists push the boundaries of what was once considered impossible.
They were thriving, and that brought him peace.
Perhaps he had once been fated to die nameless and alone on that little blue planet.
But fate had other plans—plans that lifted him beyond the stars, beyond time itself.
He had become something more.
But he never forgot where he came from.
With a final glance, Riley retracted his divine sense, drawing his awareness back to his realm.
The image of Earth faded into memory, replaced once again by the vastness of his own domain.
And in the silence that followed, one thought echoed gently in his mind.
They’re going to be just fine.
With that final obsession finally laid to rest, Riley let out a quiet breath and allowed a calm, contented smile to form on his lips.
The distant thoughts of his past, of Earth, and of everything he had once left behind slowly drifted away like mist under morning light.
He had seen enough, understood enough—for now.
There was no longer any lingering weight in his heart, only clarity and peace.
He rose from his seat and left the solitude of his private chamber, stepping into the warmth of the adjoining room where his wives awaited him.
They welcomed him not as a god or a ruler, but as their beloved—arms open, eyes filled with affection, and hearts intertwined with his.
Each of them, radiant in her own way, had been waiting patiently, their bond with him deeper than words, stronger than fate itself.
Without ceremony, he pulled them into a gentle embrace, his touch speaking volumes.
The night unfolded not in haste, but with quiet intimacy and passion.
Riley moved among them with care and devotion, ensuring that each woman felt cherished, desired, and fulfilled.
Laughter mixed with gasps, soft whispers with quiet moans, and time itself seemed to slow as their bodies moved in perfect harmony.
He knew their desires, their rhythms, their hearts—and he gave himself to them completely.
Pleasure surged and flowed like waves across the room, again and again, as Riley brought each of them to ecstasy, not just once, but countless times.
Yet it wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper, more profound.
In those moments, all of them felt like they were part of something eternal, something sacred.
There were no titles, no burdens of responsibility—just love, connection, and the quiet miracle of being together.
When at last their bodies grew tired and the room fell into a comfortable hush, Riley lay among them, surrounded by warmth and the steady rhythm of gentle breaths.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, his mind finally still.
He had seen galaxies fall and rise, witnessed the truths of reality itself—but here, in the arms of those he loved, was where he found the true meaning of peace.