Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3761

I felt it, the shift, the pull.

Like a tide made of Lattices and woven Fate itself, it carried me, not my body, but something deeper. A self composed of illusory patterns, threads of paradox and power folding over each other infinitely.

I was both there and not there.

A part of me was carried by the 50 Existential Dimensional Lattices, swept across vast unseen currents.

The Nullvein Gravewake Folds, the endless expanse between existences, stretched before me. And I traversed it not with steps, but as an unfolding of will. Seconds and years passed together, time losing all meaning.

A moment. An eternity.

And then…

I arrived at…

A Dead Wheel of Existence.

Ruined. Fractured. Breathless.

My form, still illusory, flickered as my body was composed entirely of Lattices. A floating diagram of command, of Resistances folded and layered upon each other. I was here and yet not. Untouchable.

The Wheel was quiet.

But not empty.

I felt a pull, a gravity of authority.

Toward a Frequency.

Without hesitation, I drifted, no, I willed myself toward it.

As I passed into its decaying weavings, I saw them.

Dead Things… from the Hollow Concord of Nullity!

Nascent Source-Bearers, flickering shades of broken purpose.

Harmonized Sourcebound Icons, emanating threads of warped grandeur.

Converged Architects, towering, half-shattered beings of once-great renown as their Purity Quotient was abysmal compared to their Complexity Quotient.

And among them...

Veltraxis.

I recognized him instantly.

One of the Mawbearers, his weavings dense and powerful as he was a Resplendent Monad. His form was draped in rotting banners of devouring.

Beside him, seated atop a throne of writhing bones and musical strands, was another.

Melodrass.

The 9th Mawbearer.

He played a grand tune, a melody woven from death and sorrow. Strings of unseen instruments pulled at the air itself, his fingers dancing across invisible weavings. A concert of despair.

They were gathering, weavings of death vibrant around them.

But it wasn't them that seized my attention.

It was what wrapped around them.

An invisible mass.

No, a distorted soul.

A writhing, chaotic thing, not one identity, but many.

It coiled around Veltraxis. Around Melodrass. Around the others. A mass of tentacular weavings, translucent and deformed, impossible to parse by normal senses.

To the Nascent Bearers and Converged Architects, it was non-existent.

To Veltraxis and Melodrass?

They had no idea.

Maybe a Primarch would have noticed.

Maybe.

But me?

I saw it.

I recognized it.

An Undefined True Source, one without a single narrative, an amalgamation of many truths, many existences fused into a grotesque unity.

A miracle of horror.

A masterpiece of corruption.

A symphony of Usurpation.

And at the heart of it, a figure.

Humanoid. Blurred. Shifting.

As if no single identity could hold.

As if reality itself could not decide what, who, he was.

But I knew.

I had seen his Fable.

I narrowed my eyes.

And spoke, voice low, threading across layers of unawareness.

"Eckert."

The figure jolted.

Shock.

He turned, eyes wide, his translucent form stabilizing slightly into something more… human.

He stared at me, or rather, at the illusion of me, composed of Lattices and Fictional Authority.

He shouldn't have been able to see me.

No Dead Thing here could.

No Harmonized Sourcebound Icon.

No Converged Architect.

Not even Veltraxis or Melodrass.

Only Eckert, because I chose to be seen.

Eckert blinked.

"Scared the shit outta me," he hissed, looking around quickly. None of the Mawbearers stirred.

They hadn't noticed.

They couldn't.

Absolute Fictional Transcendence wove a shroud no weak Primarch or Resplendent Monad or lesser could penetrate. Only by my will could any perceive me, and even then, barely.

I smiled.

"How the hell did you go from the Origin Singed to this? You're about to fully take over the weavings of someone one Source Value away from a Primarch," I said, voice full of quiet amazement.

Eckert's amorphous face shifted, a wry smile forming.

He looked at me, shaking his head slowly, exhaling.

"Not even gonna ask how the hell you're here," he muttered. "But yeah. This guy..." He jerked his chin toward Melodrass. "Big depressed bastard. Real careful type. I'm seventy percent in. Another few days, maybe less, and he'll be mine."

He leaned back, or rather, the blurred mass of undefined soul around him did.

"Veltraxis is already practically hollowed out. The others are just dead weight. Melodrass, though… he's careful. He's got layers of collapse defenses, his source embedded in a melody. But I'm good at peeling layers, and I am patient."

I nodded as I glanced at the others.

The Concord members murmured and plotted below, oblivious to the grotesque ballet occurring among their weavings.

The infection they couldn't sense.

The Fable unfolding inside them.

I looked back at Eckert, my smile turning sharper.

"You've crafted an Undefined True Source without a single identity. That's… something new."

Everyone had their secrets.

And Eckert nodded with a sly smile as he kept his secrets to himself.

He shifted, threads tightening, his soul-mass spiraling more deeply into Melodrass's.

"It's only a little unique. Nothing compared to you. Let's just say… by the time they notice my presence here, it'll be too late."

I gazed around once more, at the gathering of Dead Things. The Hollow Concord, blissfully unaware they were being eaten alive from the inside.

A whisper of amusement, of awe, curled in my chest.

Eckert had no Resistance.

No Primarchhood.

And yet he stood here, beneath the noses of Mawbearers and Converged Architects, thriving.

Not by strength.

By understanding.

By theft.

By absolute, unapologetic usurpation!

I tilted my head, the smile never leaving my lips.

"Would you accept help?" I asked calmly, watching the swirling, massed soul around Eckert spiral deeper into Melodrass's existence.

Eckert glanced up with brows raised. "What are you offering?"

"I want to test something," I said, voice light, almost lazy. "A new trick."

Eckert hummed low, a rumble in his fractured chest. "I've never lost when I accepted your help," he said, shaking his head. "Bring it on."

I inclined my head in acceptance.

Slowly, I reached inward, touching the vastness of my Existential Dimensional Lattices, my Living Wheel thundering quietly in the distance of my awareness.

And the system, the Fable, responded.

| An additional 3 Existential Dimensional Lattices are required for the alteration of existence you need to make while in your current state of observation. Proceed? |

Three Lattices. For what I intended? A bargain.

My eyes pulsed, golden-blue rings of command expanding.

Proceed.

Without hesitation, three Lattices detached from the intricate whorls of my Lineage, my Origin Prime Osmontian Infinitum, and floated forward.

They did not shine.

They did not flare.

They slipped silently into the Frequency, invisible, unseen.

They moved like whispers, like inevitabilities.

Toward Melodrass.

The Requiem he played, the deadly melody that wove together death and collapse, trembled.

Not from resistance.

From surrender.

Melodrass blinked, once, twice, the strings of unseen instruments faltering in his grasp.

His eyes clouded over.

Not with confusion.

With emptiness.

With daze.

A breath later, Veltraxis followed, the flickering banners of devouring around his form dimming.

And then…

The Dead Things around them.

The Nascent Source-Bearers. The Harmonized Sourcebound Icons. The Converged Architects.

Each and every one…

A single, subtle wave passed through them, and countless unseen gaps bloomed in their existences.

Dazed.

Open.

Vulnerable.

Perfect.

Eckert's distorted, tentacled mass of Undefined True Source rippled with glee, if such a thing could feel emotion.

He shook his head incredulously, his form tightening, coiling, and then…

He moved.

The grotesque soul-structure expanded, slipping effortlessly into the opened cracks.

A tendril here.

A thread there.

Quietly.

Carefully.

Completely.

The Undefined True Source wormed its way into Melodrass's core. Into Veltraxis. Into the weavings of the gathered Dead Things.

They didn't scream.

They didn't resist.

They didn't even know.

By the time their eyes cleared, by the time the haze lifted, they were themselves.

"They all try," I said, voice soft, voice absolute. _{freewebnovel.cσ๓}