Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 3750: The Dead, The Living, and The Folds II

Noah stared as the final fragment clicked into place.

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

Finding them…was unbelievably straightforward.

It was was like he was walking an accelerated Pathway to the True Source of Wrath.

And now, all fragments had been located as they assembled!

But in that moment, it didnʼt merely assemble- it sang.

A completed Sigil burst into brilliance, its fractured form swirling into a seamless, violent whole.

Violet-red arcs of radiant scripture surged around it as if the emotion of wrath itself had gained form. The rune-bound Sigil of Wrath spun slowly above his 3-inch Null Form, and with a thunderous pulse, the Middle Wheel Platform pulsed!

The resonance wasnʼt just heard as it was felt all around! Across the obsidian plains, it echoed like a scream trapped in weavings of endless rage!

|You have completed the True Source Sigil of Wrath. You can utilize it to study the workings of another Source and further develop your own.|

This…was the information from the Null Cradle in the form of a prompt.

And from Noah himself…

|The weavings of the True Source of Wrath bloom gloriously within you.|

…!

Silently, his weavings attained Wrath.

Just like that, another joined his collection.

Noah smiled faintly, the blue-gold lines of his Lineage glowing brighter beneath the skin of his Null Form.

His gaze swept over the other seven alike concepts in the same family. Pride. Greed. Envy. Lust. Sloth. Gluttony.

Each one incomplete. For now!

Whether through Sigils or sheer resonance… they would all become True Sources under his banner. It was simply a matter of time.

His thoughts that were flowing were also interrupted by the presence nearby that remained peristent.

A Primarch that came forward from those who had been observing him!

Still standing. Still watching.

He turned his head slightly, and in doing so, invoked the view that allowed him to see her panel.

NAME: Kalysta of the Veiled Sunfolds

TITLE: Primarch of Kismet

TRUE SOURCE: Kismet

CQ: 109,782 | PQ: 106,221

NULL FORM: 347 inches

Her presence pulsed with probability. Every movement was predicated on careful intuition. But beneath the composed facade was intense curiosity.

He knelt to pick up another Sigil fragment- this time from a cluster that shimmered with the faint hue of time.

But…

Kalystaʼs voice floated over calmly. ”You know, if someone like you truly wanted a challenge…”

Noah glanced up, one brow raised.

She gestured into the distance, where the landscape began to twist upward. ”You should try the Paradoxical Fold Mountains.”

He followed her finger.

There, far across the spiraling plain of obsidian and collapsed resonance, nine massive mountains rose. Each one was unique, shaped not by time, but by pressure and existential weight.

The pressure that he was bearing easily right now.

”The Sigils over there,” Kalysta continued, ”are buried beneath paradox storms. Some shift positions with time. Others demand resonance with causality to unlock.” She stepped beside him now, the tendrils of her golden Null Form brushing gently through the air. ”But those Sigils…they lead to terrifyingly complex True Sources. If completed, the benefits are far greater. Marks of the Folds are heavier and many there- allowing even the Complexity and Purity of Primarchs to be compressed at a greater rate.”

Noah gazed toward the peaks.

Massive obsidian Pillars of Concordance surrounded their bases- many cracked, others pulsing with slow-moving streams of collapsed weavings.

Calcified Wheels of Existence hovered on ledges or were partially embedded in the cliff faces. Some were surrounded by glowing sigils, locked in existential storms of entropy and momentum. Others sat in serene stillness, blanketed in paradoxical calm.

Above them, the sky was not just dark- it was layered.

Obsidian Dimensions stacked on top of one another, forming streaks of possibility.

Some mountains shimmered with misted lattice structures!

Others bore jagged, luminous scars where prior Entities had collapsed!

He took it all in as he enjoyed observing all things new and foreign on his Infinite path.

The region of the Middle Wheel Platform heʼd first entered was flat, dominated by scattered clusters of Sigil fragments and surrounded by rotating Concordance Pillars.

Several hundreds of Resplendent Monads floated quietly in meditation, processing their compression while surrounded by Sigils.

Dozens of Harmonized Sourcebound Icons worked tirelessly to piece together their fragments.

But now, as Noah turned and looked further, he noticed more and more.

There were far more Primarchs in the distance than heʼd initially seen.

Some shimmered with radiant life. Others pulsed with Void and death. Some sat in lotus form atop floating wheels, unmoving. Others…watched him.

Noah took a step forward, still facing the distant Paradoxical Fold Mountains.

He smiled.

Then he moved.

The ground beneath his Null Form shivered, his 3-inch shell humming with layered resonance as he walked confidently toward the first mountain.

”Tell me more. About those here, about this Null Cradle of Fold-Breaking Ascension.”

He asked the curious Primarch observing him. Since she was curious, she could be put to use to collect information!

His steps slowed, his Null Form humming with quiet rhythm as he waited for Kalystaʼs response.

The Paradoxical Fold Mountains loomed ahead like sleeping titans carved from entropy and intention, but it was the history- what lay behind them and their creation that pulled at his mind.

Kalysta stepped beside him, her gaze resting on the horizon as if it stretched into memory itself.

”No one knows who created the Null Cradle of Fold-Breaking Ascension,” she said, her voice soft but clear, each word chosen like a note in a symphony. ”Not even the oldest among us. Not even the Dead.”

Noah turned slightly toward her, listening.

”Itʼs a place that cannot be found through will,” she continued. ”Nor can it be chased. It finds you. Or perhaps… it waits for you to stop searching. And when you do, it shows you the truth- of yourself, of your Source, of your resonance.”

She lifted a hand and traced a glowing arc through the air, a thread of golden probability following her motion.

”But this? This is just one place. One Wonder.”

She gestured wide across the vast, broken sky above the Middle Wheel Platform.

”The Nullvein Gravewake Folds… they are endless. Weavings of collapse and silence, of unspoken deaths and glories that were never written. Across the Gravewake, there are Wheels and sanctuaries, tombs and battlefields. Living Things and Dead Things both, carving out some semblance of existence amidst chaos.”

Kalystaʼs voice took on a warmer lilt, something nostalgic hidden beneath the pride.

”I hail from the Veiled Sunfolds,” she said. ”A region of collapsed Folds where the heat never dies. Where crimson-gold weavings fill the skies like rivers of ash. Itʼs beautiful. Dangerous. Its…home.”

She paused, then smiled faintly.

”There are countless places like it. Entire factions of the Living. Kingdoms of the Dead. Wandering Warbands. Silent Concords. And among all of them… a scattering of what we call the Wonders of the Folds.”

Noahʼs eyes narrowed slightly. ”Wonders?”

Kalysta nodded. ”They are sacred. Hidden. Sometimes myth. Some real, some fake. The Null Cradle of Fold-Breaking Ascension is one of them. Many search. Most fail. And those that do find it…” She tilted her head, golden strands of fate weaving loosely through the air behind her. ”They are changed. Or they vanish.”

She turned to face him more fully now.

”But the strange thing, Stranger, is this: the Cradle doesnʼt call just anyone. It doesnʼt summon the weak or the half-formed. It pulls the few who carry paradox around their weavings of existence. Collapse in their breath. Those meant to become... something more.”

She let the silence linger, letting him feel the weight of her words.

”And still,” Kalysta went on, her tone shifting into something almost reverent, ”for all its chaos, for all its entropy… there is an order to the Folds and the Null Cradle.”

Noah looked back toward the platform, toward the mountains, toward the spiraling storms.

”Is there now?” he asked, his eyes burning with Quintessential tyranny.

Order. When he thought about everything, he seriously questioned that.

She nodded slowly. ”Between the Living and the Dead. Between the powerful and the powerless. Between the named and the forgotten. There is a balance. Fragile. Tenuous. But real. And places like this…”

She reached down and touched the obsidian floor with one hand.

”Places like the Null Cradle of Fold-Breaking Ascension exist to forge the ones whoʼll maintain that balance. Whoʼll decide if collapse is worthy. If existence deserves continuation.”

Her golden gaze met his.

”I donʼt know your name, Stranger. I donʼt know where you come from. But I think… you would also be one of those. Some of us are able to exert more of an influence than others as you may be among them, hence my curiosity.”

She let that statement hang in the heavy silence, turning once more to the horizon where the Nine Paradoxical Fold Mountains shimmered beneath layered skies and collapsed storms, and they neared the base of the closest Paradoxical Fold Mountain.

Noah gazed at it all with serenity.

Order in the folds.

A Balance between the Living and the Dead.

Countless powerful entities moving across the Folds.

All of it was grand to think about as Noah thought of his Prophecy uttered from the mouth of Ozymandias.

In it, there was the mention of those apart from the Living and the Dead who were unfathomable to even think of.

Were they…the bridge keeping the order, or something else entirely?