There were many ways for him to refine his knowledge of the Origin of Truth, but the brutal beat down of Primordial Chaos was necessary in Eos's mind; the countless screaming souls and memories in his crown demanded blood and pain, and Eos would give them in full.
This was not even acknowledging Eos's pain that needed to be vented, and he could not help it; he had come to love the sound of these creatures begging for their life at the end.
Primordial Chaos was small now. The infinite maybe of his form had been reduced to a sphere the size of a planet, then a moon, then a mountain, then a house, then a man.
At this level, he was only a pathetic remnant of his past glory. With his connection to the Ouroboros Serpents, he could feel their scales becoming saturated with the power of End.
