Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 3819: Foldless One! II

Ozymandias stood still in the silence, the obsidian sheen of his form drinking in the lightless ruins of the dead Wheel of Existence.

The tentacled wings behind his back stirred slowly, unfurling with a pulse like that of a collapsing Omniverse. The pulsing stone in his hand beat once more, its rhythm mirroring the weighty air between him and the Foldless One.

Then he spoke, his voice quiet, clear, and absolute.

”What I seek... is an endless path of advancement and existence.”

His tone did not rise. There was no plea, no declaration. Only statement. And in the echo of that statement, the stillness around them deepened.

He showed that even before this terrifying being who was filled with question marks all around...he was not fearful!

Oryzarakh gazed down, the halos behind him spinning with unreadable speed. The silence of the Foldless One was more potent than a thousand roars, and when he finally responded, his words fell like the tolling of Existence itself.

”As a Foldless One,” he said, his voice seeping into the fabric of the folds, ”you will have that. And more. As a Young Living Paradox who has even survived the presence of a Living Collapse, you are even more worthy. Your designation has already been marked. You merely need the prerequisite of reaching the stage of Originus Venerant. After that... we will take you. Train you. You will become what you are meant to be.”

The words floated, unshaken, and yet Ozymandias remained calm.

He tilted his head slightly, just a fraction, and asked with the same even voice.

”And what if I do not wish to become a Foldless One?”

...!

HUUM!

It was as if the breath of all dead things had been snatched away. The folds around the wheel buzzed with tension. The authorities of everything in this region recoiled. Even the frozen Dead Things within the distant folds trembled.

Oryzarakh did not react at first. But when he did, it was with terrifying stillness. His glowing eyes burned brighter, and his halos slowed until they spun with grim deliberation.

”It is not a choice,” he said.

The voice now held coldness. A finality.

”To be a Foldless One is not a decision. As a Young Paradox, your Existence has already stepped on the path. That path does not end in denial. It cannot. You are paradoxical. If you do not become a full-fledged Living Paradox... then the Living Collapse will devour you. Other Living Existences will erase you. Your own weavings will unravel.”

The Foldless One’s wings extended, releasing a ripple of authority that pressed onto the entire Wheel.

”I will not allow such waste. I will ensure your entry to the Originus Venerant stage.”

...!

Ozymandias did not flinch.

Internally, Noah’s mind moved with sharp precision, his thoughts like knives slicing through the implications as he wondered.

Why? Why was a being like this- who was among those that represented the apex of paradoxical authority, who should rule the Folds with untouchable certainty...so unwilling to have even the idea to let a Young Paradox go free?

They were the rulers of the Nullvein Gravewake Folds. They had reigned for longer than Time dared count. And yet...

There was a hunger beneath their certainty.

A hunger.

They wanted more Foldless Ones. Like Aetheron. Like him!

It was a glimmer of something larger. But before he could trace it further, Oryzarakh’s voice thundered again.

”A Young Paradox like you would never understand what it means to truly be one of us... unless you know your history.”

Noah’s thoughts stopped.

”Have you heard the Stories of the Earliest Folds?”

...!

The Foldless One’s gaze bore into him.

”The Story of the Earliest Creature?”

WAA!

The pulsing obsidian stone in Ozymandias’ hand throbbed once. Noah’s weavings flashed to Sigrid.

He remembered the trance-like cadence in which she spoke about a certain story!

And now...

Oryzarakh was saying the same words.

He contained all surprise. He showed nothing.

Instead, he tilted his head, just so, and let the corners of his lips curl slightly.

”Stories of the Earliest Folds?” he asked, as though he had never heard the phrase before.

The Foldless One did not hesitate.

He nodded.

And with a voice like a thousand ages remembering themselves, he began.

”In the Beginning, before the Frequencies had Names, before the Folds knew they were Folded, there was a Creature...”

And just like that, the silence of the Nullvein Gravewake Folds was filled with the weight of memory.

Ozymandias listened.

He heard the same story!

The Creature. The Living Paradox. The Living Origin. The Living Concept. The Inevitability. The giving away of Everything to Paradox to save itself!

And then...

”The Creature awoke from what felt like a slumber that had no beginning. It stirred not with strength, but with absence. As it rose from the dustless cradle of the blank folds, it realized it felt...nothing.

When it looked inward, it could not sense the Living Origin.

When it reached for meaning, the Living Concept did not stir.

Hollow.

Empty.

Not even despair lived in its chest. Only silence.

It looked outward then. The endless expanse of the Folds shimmered before it, the raw threads of Existence stretching like wild lightning across a dark canvas.

And then, it saw them.

Points of singularities.

Scattered through the Folds, like stars still blooming, they spun with chaotic beauty. Some began to pulse, spinning faster, growing larger. Slowly, across that formless abyss, more Wheels of Existence were being born.

The Creature said nothing for a long time. Then, from the silence within it, a voice slithered out.

”Will you ask your questions already?”

The voice curled into its ear like smoke, bitter and bright.

It was the Living Paradox!

The Creature turned inward. It spoke not aloud, but within. ”What did you do? Why can I not feel the Living Origin... or the Living Concept?”

The Living Paradox laughed.

”Because, little Creature, you gave me your Everything.”

There was a pause.

When the last ember of a fire is given to warm the hands of another, the giver freezes.

The Living Paradox’s voice was a sneer now, but laced with the thrill of purpose.

”You denied Paradox. You relinquished your Imagination. You began, and you took on Concept, as if structure alone could hold meaning. Then, you spared an Inevitability. You pitied it. You fractured your Origin to give it reason.”

The Creature felt the weight of those choices echo in its bones.

”So I took your Everything. Your Heart scattered into fragments that now swirl as singularities. Your Dreams became the fuel of burgeoning domains. Your Blood courses through the dust of the folds, blooming into the Code of Existence.”

”The Folds you now see? That order? That growth? That is you.”

The Paradox exhaled softly.

”I did you a favor. I made you into an Originator. From your folly, paradox bloomed, and through it, all things took shape. Of all the Living Existences, I shall be the one that covers all!”

The Creature could only rise then.

Shaking, silent.

But it could not deny what had been done.

And so it moved forward. One step. Then another.

Through the early folds, now blanketed in the cold laughter of Paradox.

And as it walked, a whisper rang through its head.

When one has nothing left to give, they have only one path. To adapt. To walk forward. To become.”

The Foldless One’s voice fell silent.

The stillness that followed was a presence of its own.

Then, his gaze locked once more on Ozymandias.

”You see now. In the beginning, it was Paradox that gave birth to everything. The Living Paradox spread its threads when all else slept. The ungratefulness of the later beings does not erase the truth. Without us, none of this would exist.”

The obsidian stone in Ozymandias’s palm pulsed once.

The Foldless One continued.

”We are the descendants of that act. Of that first scattering of blood and will. Of the earliest paradox. You carry that legacy, whether you wish to or not.”

He leaned forward, and the dead wheel seemed to collapse further under his presence.

”This birthright cannot be denied. You will join us. Whether you walk willingly, or stumble, makes no difference.”

The threat was not subtle.

But the Foldless One was not finished.

His obsidian gaze lingered now on the space around Ozymandias, as if the air itself was betraying secrets.

”I sense faint weavings around you. Entanglements. Threads of connection. Creatures. Lifeforms. Those who are bound to you.”

Noah’s silence did not shift.

”I do not care for them. But I could find them. I will not look unless you make me. Denial will give me reason.”

...!

A clear threat!

One that Ozymandias listened to coldly as in the next moment...

The stone in his hand buzzed again.

The Foldless One’s eyes focused.

”You hold a Paradoxical Entry Prison Stone. I do not know how. But its presence is useful as I can direct you through this.”

...!

Ozymandias did not flinch as the stone was torn from his palm by an unseen authority. It drifted upward, into the Foldless One’s waiting grasp.

”You will enter the Paradoxical Prison. Not as a prisoner. But as a Warden.”

The space shuddered.

”You will walk its corridors. See its layers. You will feast. You will hunt. And you will begin to understand what Living Paradoxes do best.”

The Foldless One leaned closer, until his voice filled all of Ozymandias’s senses.

”Devour your way to Mastery. For that is the only truth left to us. To rise... you must devour. Endlessly.”

WAA!

The Dead Wheel wept in silence!