Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3746

Others could only use them as inferences, to empower their current and sole True Source. As methods to see what areas they were currently deficient in any way.

But he…

"Hmm…"

He smiled, brilliant and quiet, as his gaze swept across the region.

At the auras of Resplendent Monads and the few Harmonized Sourcebound Icons.

And even fewer... glorious auras of Entities, dense with enough Complexity and Purity to be considered Primarchs!

Noah took another step forward.

The ground beneath him crackled with paradox, the ever-present weight pressing down. The obsidian floor nearly sang in resonance with his presence. But his eyes weren't on the cracked weavings beneath his feet, they were on the Entities spread across the vast stretch of the Middle Wheel Platform.

They were everywhere.

Each one surrounded by drifting Sigil Fragments, colorful, luminous shards that resembled teardrops or slivers of crystallized truth. Each one pulsed with the whisper of an incomplete True Source.

And above each Entity's head floated a glowing prompt, a status identifier suspended in flickering, arcane light.

Noah's eyes scanned the first cluster.

NAME: Aeyon of the Emberdeep Vale

Title: Cinderglaive Fire-Kin

TRUE SOURCE: Hope

CQ: 9,999 (49,999)

PQ: 9,999 (49,999)

NULL FORM: 131 inches

A being of smoldering ash and dancing flame knelt amid a swirl of bright orange Sigils. His long limbs were wrapped in emberglass silk, his chest pulsing with a slow, mournful rhythm.

Noah shook his head. This... was supposedly a Harmonized Sourcebound Icon, yet his actual power could easily decimate a Monad or Converged Architect like Veltraxis.

There were… a few dozen like him scattered across this place.

Around Aeyon, fiery glyphs spun in concentric circles, forming his sizable Null Form. As Noah passed, Aeyon raised his head, not in challenge, but in acknowledgment. A presence that was heavy.

Further ahead, another figure floated.

NAME: Del'thari the Dark Bloom

Title: Undying Blossom of Mycalis

TRUE SOURCE: Time

CQ: 39,999 (79,999)

PQ: 39,999 (79,999)

NULL FORM: 101 inches

She resembled a woman composed entirely of shifting petals, each one bearing glowing script within delicate veins. Her face was serene, her form seated within a lotus of collapsed temporal paradoxes. Around her, white and lavender Sigils drifted gently, almost playfully, as her eyes remained closed. But Noah could feel the focused, ruthless intelligence beneath that stillness.

There were actually a few hundred Monads, some less powerful, others slightly above her, spread across these obsidian lands.

Another moved along the far horizon, drawing Noah's attention.

A Dead Thing… one that radiated such terrifying brilliance that even Primarch Vaethrava, the Withering Sealroot, couldn't compare.

NAME: Kellavor the Gravedancer

Title: Primarch of the Forgotten Tenebris Choir

TRUE SOURCE: Mourning

CQ: 79,999 (149,999)

PQ: 89,999 (149,999)

NULL FORM: 251 inches

His Null Form was a black mass of heavy screams and silent wonder.

A genuine, truly powerful being.

Kellavor was a creature of shadow silk and sharpened lament, a thin humanoid cloaked in fluttering ribbons of echoing screams. His blade, a scythe fused with memory, rested beside him. Black and silver Sigils surrounded him, each shaped like a fragment of eulogy.

Noah felt his gaze, quiet, ancient, unreadable.

None of them spoke. None acknowledged one another openly.

Because here...

Everyone was at war with understanding.

Dozens more caught Noah's eye as he moved forward.

A Living Thing, a Gilded Minotaur wove sigils by chanting in reverse time.

Another, a Crystalline Winged Elf, hovered in a cage of translucent flame, her wings sheared from reality, glowing with drifting data.

A Dead Thing, a Harmonic Naga of Dual Source, whispered lullabies to her Sigils, coaxing them into cohesion, trying to bind them into a complete Sigil.

And one particularly strange figure: a childlike boy made of parchment and runes. He stood among floating Sigils shaped like questions, muttering their meanings into ink he fed back into his body.

Each of their True Source prompts shimmered with a blend of elegance and dread.

Noah walked among them calmly.

Some turned, noting his small Null Form, but said nothing, too absorbed in piecing together the scattered Sigils.

Others kept their eyes on him longer, realizing he moved effortlessly across shattered teardrop Sigils, unhindered by size or power.

Noah only glanced around out of curiosity, drawn to the terrifying Primarchs and their mysteries. Eventually, he looked down at the scattered Sigils spread all around.

He extended his hand.

A violet sigil fragment drifted into his palm, soft, humming, and singing. It buzzed with the whisper of a forgotten Entity.

[Fragment of the True Source Sigil: Wrath | Segment 3/39]

Wrath?

That… was something he understood well.

For others, tracking the rest of its fragments might prove nearly impossible. But for him...

He already had the Seven Sins, among many others, on the cusp of becoming fully realized True Sources. And that was without effort.

He reached out through the weavings of Wrath he already understood. Across the scattered obsidian wheel, he felt it, the resonance of multiple other shattered segments nearby.

He smiled, bright and dangerous.

And,

"Let's begin," he murmured.

The platform buzzed with glory.

—

Elsewhere…

Within the Infiniverse Crucible.

The skies screamed.

The horizon bled.

Frequencies of Continuity, Entropy, and Manadynamics convulsed violently as titanic figures clashed.

Nascent Source-Bearers and Harmonized Sourcebound Icons, Resplendent Monads and aspiring Primarchs, all tore across the fragmented terrain like stars gone mad.

Here, Megalos Mountains rose and fell in seconds. Entire shattered Omniverses blinked in and out of existence.

And in the heart of it all, he stood.

Noah.

Or rather, one of his forms.

Golden-blue clouds whirled around him, a stellar crown spinning silently above his head. His Lineage surged through every thread of his being, overflowing with the power of the Origin Prime Osmontian Infinitum. His very presence twisted the fabric of the Crucible, his weavings pushing ever closer to an apex no one here could have imagined just days prior.

Before him floated two wonders of ruin and infinity. _{ƒгeewebnovёl.com}

The Infiniverse.

Ruination.

One clad in a radiant bodysuit woven from True Frequencies themselves, veiled in Continuity and Entropy.

The other draped in a prophecy of collapse, wielding a scimitar forged from the memories of fallen Wheels.

And in the midst of battle, Noah paused.

He looked to the skies above.

To the Infinity Symbol pulsing in the clouds, glowing with a tricolor of wonders, something budding within it for days now ready, ripe to emerge.

His golden pupils shimmered as the Wheels of Existence spun faster.

He wanted to test it.

Not just himself, but the power of what his Lineage had become after enduring the Null Cradle of Fold-Breaking Ascension.

"Hooo…"

He exhaled.

His body arched back. Arm extended.

And then...

BOOOOOM!

A punch was thrown.

But it wasn't merely a punch.

It carried within it the totality of his current self: