Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3757

Chapter 3757: Unbound Tyranny II

We stood.

The three of us.

Myself, Romulus, and Velmior Thal-Veyr.

The Dead Wheel, fractured and groaning beneath our weight, offered no protest. It understood.

Even silence understood when monsters stood in argument.

The Dead Prime Frequency of the End...I had not been looking at it, but it had unraveled to such a terrifying extent that it was now hard to recognize.

My Lattices shimmered behind me in full bloom. My ten Resistances sang together, harmonized truths cutting through the dying air.

Romulus shifted beside me. He was quiet. Not out of hesitance.

But due to power.

The Witness, or his record let’s say, stood still behind us. Watching.

Velmior’s Temporal Lattices spun like solemn Omniverses around him. Vast. Heavy. Authoritative.

But uncertain.

And that, more than anything else, deserved to be addressed.

So I did.

My voice broke across the weavings of death all around.

"If you have any threats to throw," I said coolly, "now is the time."

Velmior’s eyes narrowed. I continued without pause.

"Not when your Lattices are collapsing. Not when your bones are cracking beneath Paradox. Not when your Source sputters to finish a sentence."

My hands folded behind my back as my gaze hardened.

"Go on. Tell us. That in the end, we’ll die. That there are greater forces coming. That we are ants beneath the Chronosect of Threadbound Folds."

My tone was not mocking. It was factual.

If he had any last illusions of authority to uphold, I was giving him this chance to air them out, before we rewrote the narrative.

Velmior did not flinch.

Instead, he exhaled.

And shook his head slowly.

"In time," he said, "many things are possible."

His voice wasn’t filled with the smugness of a condescending master. It was sober. And it carried a strange weight. Not fear. But experience.

"In time," he continued, "you will come to understand. You and others like you, who have obtained keys, true keys, and think to wield them like children swinging blades, you will invite disaster."

He looked at me, then Romulus.

"When beings like you obtain the unspoken, and do nothing with it..."

His voice tightened.

"...you shake pillars that should not tremble. And tremble they will. At a time when those greater than even Primarchs are growing nervous, the rest of you should be crawling where you stand. Pissing in your pants."

That was the first time he had spoken like that.

With something I almost wanted to call reverence, or dread.

From such a powerful being?

Romulus raised an eyebrow.

But I beat him to it.

My voice remained soft. Unhurried. "What," I asked, "could make something greater than a Primarch nervous?"

Velmior’s Temporal Lattices spun tighter. His jaw flexed.

And then he smiled.

A sad, defeated sort of smile.

"The weavings of the Nullvein Gravewake Folds have been changing for the last thousand years."

That made me pause.

But what he said next, it wasn’t just speculation.

It was declaration.

"Those who oversee all paradoxes," Velmior said, "may act soon."

I blinked once.

My expression did not change.

But something within me turned.

Paradoxes?

Overseen?

By whom?

I tilted my head, voice like steel wrapped in curiosity.

"Who exactly oversees all paradoxes?"

Velmior’s gaze flicked to me.

Then to Romulus.

And then back.

He looked at us with incredulity. No, more than that. Disbelief.

"You don’t know..."

He said it as though it were heresy.

"You really don’t know!"

He looked at us again. Not as enemies.

But as fools.

"Did you think," he began slowly, "that in all the infinite eons of the Gravewake Folds, no entities had ever risen? That none had ever claimed these endless regions? That no authorities exist beyond the whispers of the Dead and the Living moving across the Folds?"

Romulus’ face was unreadable.

I remained still. But my mind moved rapidly.

"You both think you are some explorers," Velmior said quietly. "That these lands are wild. Open. Untouched. Free for you all to leave your now Dead Wheel and explore with wonder?"

He raised a hand, gesturing around him.

"The Gravewake is not unclaimed. The Folds are not wild. They are already spoken for. They are paradoxically made stable and unbreakable. They are ruled."

His eyes turned into slits.

"By beings beyond Primarchy. Far, far beyond. Unfathomably beyond!"

Something cold bloomed within my existence.

Not fear.

Information.

A framework settling into place.

Velmior stepped forward.

And his voice dropped.

"The ones who oversee all paradoxes are not named. Not because they hide. But because their names are Unspoken. Because their very Titles cannot be remembered unless given permission."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who gave them that permission?"

"They did," Velmior answered. "They carved laws into paradox before paradox had shape. They forged Thrones out of impossible conflicts. They created their own Absolutes, beyond the ten that we know. Untouched Resistances of their own definition as we cannot even dare to wound them. Incapable to even try."

HUUM!

I felt Romulus’ Lattices buzz for a second.

And Velmior pressed on.

"You want to know who destroyed my Chronolegion?" he asked coldly.

I did. Romulus did. We destroyed your Sentinels...

"You think it was you? Or entities like you?"

His head shook. Fury rippled through his Lattices.

"It was not Paradoxical Resistance that broke my Legion," he growled and laughed lightly. "It was actually ignorance."

His voice cracked like falling timelines.

"I watched the destruction of my Time Sentinels not by greater powers, but by fools who do not even know anything."

He stepped forward, his face now drawn with something truly ancient.

"Beings who stumbled into the Gravewake Folds and devoured what they didn’t understand. Who shattered Continuities just to taste their echoes. Beings who touched paradox without any resistance, because they had none, and were consumed, and didn’t even know it."

His words landed like meteors.

And finally, he said it.

"The Nullvein Gravewake Folds are not a map of wonder and possibility. They are an endless graveyard of kings."

He looked at me directly.

"You both are children. Strong, yes. Tyrannical, terrifying, brilliant, but children still."

Romulus said nothing.

I did not blink.

And in that silence, Velmior’s expression shifted once more.

He looked tired.

"And they could be watching now," he said softly. "The Ones who wrote paradox into breath. The Sovereigns of the Deepfold. The...ah, I should not speak much lest I wish to draw their ire and attention."

HUUM!

Romulus’ entropy shuddered.

My Lattices tightened.

So.

There were wonders of unfathomable complexity behind the endless Folds.

Watching.

Ruling.

Deciding.

And I smiled.

Because that changed a few things, but not really.

Because my path still remained the same.

"You should run," Velmior said. "While you still can."

I shook my head, calm as ever.

"I never run from Fables."

And Romulus?

He finally spoke.

"We’re not children," he said, raising his entropy.

"We’re storms that learned how to walk. From a Wheel of Existence you could never understand."