Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3687

A Wheel of Existence actually undergoes a series of transformations—again and again—across its infinite weavings.

The first transformation was meant to succeed.

But when it failed, the Wheel shattered like a shell far too intricate to remain whole. In shedding that immense complexity, another version of itself bloomed—but it was a dim echo. Less pure. Less vast.

Logically, if the transformation couldn't succeed when the Wheel held its peak brilliance and complexity, how could it possibly succeed in a lesser state? The second time. The third. The eighth.

And now, it stood on the edge of a ninth transformation—its final one!

Failure was almost written into its fate.

The Ninth Breaking of the Wheel was bound to happen, and this time with finality!

Noah's eyes simmered, lit with the terrible glow of existence as he thought through it all.

Before the first breaking, the Wheel radiated such complexity, such purity, that it gave rise to Resplendent Monads and Converged Architects. And when that happened, both the living and the dead from the Nullvein Gravewake Folds came for it.

Now? Only a scattered handful of Dead Things drifted toward this fading, depleted golden Wheel—its luster dulled, its complexity diminished.

Even its protectors now mirrored that decay as they weren't that powerful compared to before!

Everything was connected.

Every action met an equal and opposite reaction.

And Noah now stood before the reality that the Ninth Breaking of the Wheel wasn't spoken of as a "transformation" anymore. No. The transformation had become a myth, a laughable impossibility. What remained was collapse.

The collapse of the Wheel of Existence… and with it, everything it held. Every life. Every source. Doomed to fall under the weavings of a Dead Absolute Complex True Source.

He…would not allow it!

His gaze lifted- sharp, burning, unyielding- toward the Witness.

That ancient figure who had been there from the very beginning. From the First Breaking.

The one who had watched it all.

So Noah asked, voice steady, "Across thousands, millions, and billions of years through every breaking—you've just watched. The Ninth and final one is coming. Did you try to stop any of it?"

Did he try?

Such a question cracked the silence. The being in the golden blindfold trembled, ever so slightly. He took a slow, heavy breath—and answered with aching calm.

"I have tried more than you can imagine. I've experimented with Dead Things, their memories, their echoes, all in search of the origin—trying to learn what went wrong. I ventured to the perilous, collapsed weavings of the Nullvein Gravewake Folds… searching, begging for an answer. Over the eons, I've asked myself endlessly—how could the impossible be overcome? And always, the answer circled back to one truth: something must change. A new variable must rise. Whether from within… or from outside the Wheel."

WAA!

As those words hung in the air, his sightless eyes, seeing so much even though they were blind, locked onto Noah.

And the old man continued.

"In the Third Breaking, I observed hopeful possibilities. Entities with curious complexities. I asked myself—Could they be the variable? But no. They weren't.

The Fourth Breaking came. I waited. I watched. And again—nothing.

The Fifth. The Sixth. The Seventh. No true change. No spark."

His voice softened, distant with memory.

"Not until the Eighth. Then… one appeared. A Holder of a True Source of Asche. He reached the Resplendent Monad level. He wasn't cast away like the others—just like me. But even he, in the end, wasn't enough."

He took a moment, then looked into the present.

"And now? This final weaving. This last desperate chance. I asked again—Is there any hope? Or will the Wheel perish into obscurity… while I become the Witness of its final fall… just another Dead Thing?

I asked. I pondered. I witnessed. Waiting for anything… for anyone…"

His voice faltered. Then grew strong.

"And out of nowhere, they appeared.