Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3758

Unknown dangers and wonders. They always went hand in hand.

The Dead Wheel was quiet.

Not truly dead, no, death had long abandoned this place. But something heavier filled the air.

An execution had just taken place.

Velmior Thal-Veyr, Grand Conductor of the Whenfolds, was gone.

What remained was simple.

| Paradoxical Primarch Loot Cache: Constructed. |

| Acquired: Undefined Existential Dimensional Lattices (x12) | | True Source Sigil: Interval |

But there was something else.

| Warning: Memory Extraction Failed. |

| Cause: Temporal Record Shrouded beyond Localized Chronology. |

…!

Even in defeat, the Chronosect’s Sentinels had held onto something. Their final dignity. Their final spite.

Their memories were inaccessible.

Not shattered, hidden.

Locked behind weavings of time spun too far from the immediate threads we fought in.

Perhaps woven into the true powerhouses of the Chronosect, sealed from others like me.

I smiled faintly.

Not disappointed.

Merely… interested.

It made sense. Entities built on time would have defenses for the one thing truly worth protecting, their past.

I absorbed the rest of the Cache. The Undefined Existential Dimensional Lattices spiraled into the burning weavings of my existence and only further became fuel for my elevation.

I now had forty-nine Lattices fully formed as more and more were being.

Nine of them from my Origin Prime Osmontian Infinitum Lineage, which led to the wondrous resistance of Paradox.

| Paradoxical Resistance: +3%. |

Steady.

I looked over at Romulus. He stood quietly, head tilted slightly as he watched the fading echoes of Velmior’s final moments.

A silence passed.

I broke it first.

"You realize," I said calmly, "we’ve just made ourselves targets."

Romulus didn’t turn immediately.

When he did, his entropy softened, a rare thing.

"I said it before," he murmured. "I’ll bear the consequences of my choices. This was something I had to do."

His dark skin pulsed with brilliance.

His gaze shifted behind me, to the Witness.

To the Record he had resurrected from the decaying shell of Eluriah Veilnox.

Romulus approached slowly.

The Witness stood waiting, golden blindfold glinting faintly even beneath the dim echoes of a broken sky.

Romulus halted a few feet away.

"You," he said, voice low, "and yet… not you."

The Witness smiled, a small, serene thing.

"I am but a record," the Witness said. "A memory stitched into a body of yesterday."

Romulus’ hands tightened slightly, his entropy simmering.

"But," the Witness continued, "with the True Source of Continuity, I may yet become whole again."

Romulus breathed out, not relief, but something adjacent to hope.

Continuity. The reknitting of broken lines. A way, perhaps, to reclaim what the Chronosect tried to erase.

Romulus turned toward me.

I nodded, already anticipating his next words.

"There’s only one party left," he said softly. "The Mawbearers of the Hollow Concord of Nullity."

Mmm.

Them.

I tilted my head, gazing upward through the fractured layers of the Dead Wheel.

"The Mawbearers aren’t going anywhere," I said.

Romulus silently looked at me before he replied.

"You wish to pause."

The Witness said nothing, only adjusting the golden cords of his blindfold, as if reacquainting himself with existing.

Romulus’ entropy folded close around him, contained, sharpened.

He asked the inevitable.

"Okay. Shall we move in the shelter of the Folds? Or go elsewhere?"

Elsewhere?

I smiled faintly.

Oh, I had an elsewhere.

And unlike the Gravewake Folds, it was a dominion of my own making.

Without waiting for further question, I raised my hand.

The Folds around us quivered not from fear, not from resistance, but recognition.

Threads of paradox bent to me.

They knew my song.

I weaved.

A gate opened.

A simple thing, a tear in the veil of the Gravewake Folds, stitched into the seams of the paradox and collapse.

Something I could do now due to the True Absolute Existential Dimensional Resistance.

Through the tear in the veil of the Folds pulsed the impossible hues of the Infiniverse.

I gestured as if welcoming them.

Romulus stepped through first, silent and ready.

The Witness followed, a flicker of golden restraint and hidden majesty.

I stepped through last.

The Fold-sewn gate collapsed behind me without a whisper, sealing away the broken threads of the Dead Wheel and the chaos we left behind in a storm of paradox and collapse.

Ahead… the Crucible waited.

The Infiniverse Crucible, deep within the Infiniverse itself.

Not merely a battleground, but something far more refined.