Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 3846: Towers of Origin! III

Noah sensed everything with perfect clarity.

The Dyson Singularity pulsed around him like a living drumbeat, each thrum feeding his expanding existence.

His awareness stretched across the growing towers within his Living Wheel of Existence, each one a blooming monument of intricate complexity, each drop of crimson-gray blood within him pulsing with ancient might.

The third. The fourth. The fifth.

Drops of blood that should not have been!

Yet there they were- old as the beginning, blooming from him like echoes of something that had always been waiting to be remembered.

The Towers rose steadily, an orchestra of silence and power and glorious quintessence!

Wherever Nine Pillars of Concordance stood, their Mythic Living True Signatures manifested in perfect synchronicity- halos of black gold circling behind them, wings unfurled like celestial manuscripts of creation.

They stood like anchors at the edge of reality. Their mouths opened, and from them poured Hymns- ancient, existential understanding of these True Sources shaped into song!

The hymns built the towers brick by brick and symbol by symbol, with lemniscates of paradox and purpose intertwining into form.

And when Noah’s gaze turned to the Tower of Quintessence...

The Hymn it sang rumbled deeper than anything else currently!

He listened, his head unconsciously moving to the beat of Quintessence!

”We are the breath that never chose,

The center-point that never knows.

Not fire, nor wind, nor name nor sound,

Yet through all things, we are found.”

”The bone behind the moving frame,

The silent law beneath the flame.

No banner borne, no cry, no creed,

Yet in your need, we are the seed.”

”The pure distillate of many a form,

The calm that stands beneath the storm.

In light, in dark, in grief, in grace,

We are the pulse behind your pace.”

”To seek us is to fall within,

Where purpose ends, and truths begin.

Not what is loud, not what is vast,

We are Quintessence. The thing that Lasts!”

HUUM!

The tones were unhurried.

Deep. Quintessential. Each word struck like a chime from the heart of Existence itself- slow, deliberate, and immesurably heavy!

Each verse inscribed deeper foundation into the Tower it sang into being.

Noah watched.

And he listened.

He shifted his gaze, now drawn to another rising construct- one that radiated like a glorious sun, its golden latticework etched in purpose and defiance.

The Tower of the Protagonist.

Its Pillars were bold. Its Mythic Signatures stood like fallen stars reigniting, blazing gold halos pulsing with silent fury.

It had done a lot of heavy lifting recently since Noah released it freely.

It external influence was utterly ridiculous as from Bob to Thauron, from Thauron to Living Origins to their attack on him and now...his survival pushing him to open up the path of an Early Creature.

This was the True Source that had dragged Noah forward again and again, pushing him to remain at the center even when he desired anything but.

He closed his eyes and let their Hymn reach him as the massive Mythic Living True Signatures of the Protagonist sang gloriously!

”We walk the tale that all must tread,

The tale where heroes rise from dread.

The wound, the sword, the crown, the flame,

Each tale is ours, each mask the same.

”Our story bends, but does not break,

Though time may cheat, and faith may shake.

We lose. We fall. Yet still, we stand,

The script forever in our hand.”

”Each moment casts us in the role,

Each breath demands another toll.

We are the path the world forgets,

The pain behind its bold regrets.”

”We are the will that must ignite,

The nameless fire in endless night.

The tale is long, the road is wide,

But we, alone, shall turn the tide.”

...!

The Mythic Signatures of the Protagonist sang with fervor and burden.

Their tone was clear, noble, and worn out, each line a testimony from a being who had carried destinies unfathomably heavy!

It was a hymn sung from behind bloodied lips and broken bones, and yet...they still sang.

Noah tilted his head faintly, the black-gold glimmer of his gaze half-lidded in thought as the Hymn of the Protagonist murmured on.

Even though the towering construction of its Origin had been completed, its form solidified in endless lemniscates of narrative power, the song had not ceased.

It echoed low, like a tide that refused to be pulled back, a deep thrum beneath all things.

The Early Living Paradoxical Tower of Origin also still sang!

Even after their Towers of Origins were built, thr Mythic Living True Signatures still continued to sing their hymns as their complexities swirled up passively in this whole process!

These hymns were not simply finishing touches, no ceremonial rites. They were declarations. Living, evolving affirmations of complexity and purity. And if they were to echo outward? To be heard by all?

His thoughts sharpened like knives drawn in the dark. What would happen if he simply let the Folds hear the sound of his Towers singing?

His eyes ignited with a burning, focused light at such thoughts.

Then, at that moment , he felt her.

The warmth of the lips pressed to his own. The visage of Moiraine!

A Foldless One. A Living Paradox whose power exceeded his own by orders of magnitude- thousands of times more complex, more ancient, more pure. And yet, she was the one wrapped against his chest. She was the one buzzing from the overwhelming scent of his Existence.

He tasted her thoroughly, and if his mind could name her taste, it would be existential strawberries- ripened not in a field, but in the spinning forge of countless Paradoxical Authority.

He was pulling in Paradoxical Authority from her at an alarming rate, and yet... it was like drawing from an ocean whose surface had not even been rippled.

An endless dam. That was what she felt like. He could consume endlessly, build endlessly. And she... she would give more.

His grip tightened on her waist.

Her flowing white-gold strands coiled across his arm like living banners of surrender. And with that clarity, with the trembling urge to continue drawing from her, Noah let his hands begin to explore- slow and precise.

Not rushed. He was not a man of haste. What use was there in hurrying?

No, he was deliberate!

The pristine body of a Living Paradox, the one who could have ended him, whose complexity could have swallowed his own many times over.

And yet here she was, melting into him like snow into flame.

But just as his hand began to slide down her side, the entire thread of his consciousness trembled.

HUUM!

A buzz. A pulse of something ancient. Something his.

The weave of Absolute Fictional Transcendence stirred!