The Omnipotent System

Chapter 112: Remembering The Past 1

Primordial Chaos Sect

A few minutes ago

Adams sat upon his throne, a deep frown etched across his face. The opulence of his surroundings could not mask the turmoil within him. His dreams, vivid and strange, had been haunting him for days. Something was missing—something crucial that tugged at the edges of his consciousness but remained elusive. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his golden eyes dimmed in thought.

"Tell me about my first life," he muttered, his voice low and commanding. "If possible, just show me."

Adams said as he sat at his throne with a frown on his face, still clearly bothered about those strange dreams.

This time, she appeared even clearer than before. Her beauty was beyond mortal comprehension—so ethereal, so radiant that even the goddesses in his life would pale in comparison. Her long, flowing black hair shimmered with the same dark luster as his, cascading like a waterfall down her back.

Her golden eyes blazed with an ancient light, the same golden hue as his, only more intense, as if they held the sun itself. Her skin, fair and smooth like porcelain, glowed softly in the dim light of his mind, casting an aura of serenity around her.

Adams inhaled sharply, his heart skipping a beat as he studied her features—so strikingly similar to his own. It was uncanny. She looked like him in every way, but there was an air about her that felt... older. Wiser. Otherworldly.

At first, he thought she might be a twin sister, an equal in every sense of the word. But deep down, he knew that wasn't the case. Her presence was far older, far more ancient than his. She radiated an aura of authority and age that seemed to dwarf even his understanding. She wasn't his twin—she was something more, someone tied to his very being, yet he couldn't recall her.

His brows furrowed deeper as he struggled to make sense of her identity. Why couldn't he remember her? How could someone who bore such a striking resemblance to him—who shared the same divine traits—be lost from his memories?

Then, a name floated into his mind, fragile yet distinct. Aria Albert.

Adams whispered the name softly, tasting it on his tongue, feeling it resonate within his soul. There was something about that name... something familiar yet unreachable. The mystery deepened, and a flicker of frustration flashed across his face as he clenched the armrest of his throne.

Who was she to him? A sister? An ancestor? Or perhaps something more profound, more intricate? The weight of his forgotten past pressed down harder, the truth just beyond his grasp.

His eyes narrowed in determination. Whatever the answer, he would find it. The image of Aria Albert burned into his mind, her golden eyes seeming

[I can't do that. That's for you to figure out,] Jarvis responded, his voice calm and detached, as though the problem at hand had no bearing on him—and in truth, it didn't.

Adams' brow furrowed at Jarvis' nonchalant reply. "You're the Omnipotent System. This shouldn't be an issue for you. Just help me unlock those memories," he pressed, a hint of frustration edging into his tone. To Adams, it seemed ridiculous that memories from a past life could be so elusive, even for a system of Jarvis' caliber.

Jarvis' voice echoed once more in Adams' mind, steady and unwavering. [It's not that I can't help you; it's that I won't. You, in your past life to be precise, explicitly instructed me not to interfere with these memories. Your former self didn't want to remember, and I am bound by my promise to honor that. However, if the memories begin to resurface naturally, I won't suppress them either.

My role is to let things unfold as they are meant to. I'm sorry, but I am a system of my word.]

Adams let out a dry laugh at Jarvis' response, his tension giving way to a weary sigh. He couldn't argue with that—Jarvis wasn't just a system. He was an entity governed by promises made long before Adams could even recall. The answer lay buried within himself, somewhere beyond his reach.

As he sat there, brooding, Lilith's voice broke the silence. She leaned casually against the doorway, her figure bathed in the dim, flickering light. "What's got you in such a foul mood?" she asked, her tone playful but curious. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flicked over him. "You've never been this frustrated. Want to share?"

Adams, seated in his usual chair, had his head resting on his hand, his expression a mix of deep thought and mild irritation. He glanced up at Lilith, a flicker of amusement crossing his face as he answered, "Just having a little issue with myself. Apparently, some part of me doesn't want to remember something… but still wants me to remember.

It's maddening." His frown faded, replaced by a small, teasing smile. "Come here, though. I thought you'd be in the secret realm with your sister. Why are you back so early?"

Lilith's lips curled into a smirk before she vanished in a blur, appearing in front of Adams in the blink of an eye. She curled into his lap, resting her head against his chest, her fingers playing with the edge of his shirt. "Well, we are back. Turns out what you said was true. If not for the artifacts you gave us, we probably would've died in there—without even knowing how it happened."

As she spoke, her voice softened, her head still nestled against him. But then, she pulled back slightly, looking up at Adams with a more serious expression. "And the strangest thing happened… we saw a female version of you. She seemed to be in some kind of deep sleep—or maybe even dead." Lilith's tone was nonchalant, as if she hadn't just dropped a bombshell.

"Maybe she's your twin sister or something?"

Adams froze for a moment, his muscles tensing beneath Lilith's gentle embrace. His eyes darkened, the usual calm expression on his face replaced with something much more troubled. The casual way she said it didn't lessen the weight of her words as they settled in his mind, stirring something deep inside him.

Turmoil flashed through his gaze, but he quickly masked it, his hand brushing through her hair in a soothing gesture.

"Interesting…" he murmured, his voice calm but laced with an undertone that was hard to place. "And here I thought I have seen everything about that place."

In a flash, the surroundings shifted, and Lilith blinked, her gaze darting around in confusion as she realized they were back in the secret realm. Her heart skipped a beat, eyes narrowing as she tried to piece it together.

"Why are we back here?" she asked, a mixture of concern and frustration in her voice. "Don't tell me it's because of what I said." She glanced at Adams, waiting for an answer, but his attention was already elsewhere, focused on a massive door in the distance.

Without a word, Adams moved toward the door, his expression unreadable. Lilith followed cautiously, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his actions. Adams reached out, pressing his palm against the cold, ancient surface. The door reacted immediately, pricking his skin. He barely flinched, eyes flicking to the small drop of blood that surfaced before the door groaned and began to open.

The air seemed to thicken with anticipation, but Adams stepped through without hesitation, Lilith trailing behind him.

As they entered the vast chamber beyond, they were greeted by an eerie silence. In the center of the hall stood a transparent, glass-like coffin, surrounded by a crowd of people, all focused intently on what lay within.

The moment Adams and Lilith stepped into the room, every head turned. The occupants stared at Adams, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief, as if they were witnessing a ghost. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on, as they glanced back and forth between Adams and the figure inside the coffin.

Adams felt the weight of their stares but ignored them. His mind was already turning, piecing together the truth Lilith had spoken of. With a calm resolve, he walked forward, his footsteps echoing in the silence. As he approached the coffin, his gaze fell on the woman lying within.

His breath caught in his throat.

There she was—Aria Albert, the woman who had haunted his dreams. Her face was serene, almost ethereal, as though she were merely asleep. Adams stood still, his usual composure wavering as memories he didn't fully understand flooded his mind. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he took in her features. The resemblance was undeniable.

Adams' hand trembled as it reached out to touch the cold surface of the coffin. His usually calm and composed face faltered, his jaw tightening. As his fingers made contact with the wood, a single tear slipped down his cheek, shimmering in the dim light of the hall. His eyes, normally filled with power and authority, softened in a way that none had ever seen before.

"Mother..." The word escaped his lips, barely more than a whisper, yet it echoed through the grand hall like a thunderclap. The air itself seemed to shudder at the weight of it.