Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3843

Chapter 3843: Living! VII

What he wanted was made clear.

And Moiraine nodded at him.

The paradoxical lights in the Dyson Singularity dimmed for a moment- just long enough for Moiraine to lift her hand and wave gently through the dense golden mist.

An illusion bloomed into view. A...tower, if it could even be called such.

White and gold.

It twisted upward in layers, curving in elegant spirals, its base and every floor above formed by overlapping ouroboros rings- each one etched from uncountable Existential Dimensional Lattices.

Each curve of the Tower of Origin seemed to wrap in on itself infinitely, like the symbol of endlessness itself was attempting to devour its own tail.

White gold strands of paradox laced the tower’s structure, pulsing with the silent rhythm of pure intent.

Moiraine’s voice broke the silence, calm and sharp.

"Past Limited Absolute Complexity is Absolute. Venerant. A Master of one’s Existence. Originus Venerant is the culmination of one’s True Source," she said. "To attain it is to fully know the story of your Source, its beginning, its end, its complexity, its purity, its faces beyond faces."

Her eyes flicked to Noah’s, luminous with deep truth.

"You enact a Tower of Origin from your Lattices. All of them. Your existence becomes embedded in that Tower. Isolated from everything else. Closed off."

She gestured toward the spectral tower now winding endlessly upward.

"This... is the realm of beginnings. Here, Living Existences forge what defines them. Living Elementals manifest Towers born of the elements. Living Spirits carve from the echo of souls. Living Origins, absurd as it may sound, forge Origin Towers of Origin. And is it not paradoxical that every lifeform has to forge a Tower of Origin? That each life form, even Living Paradoxes, have to form such a thing at birth or later on?"

Her voice was almost musing to itself at the oddity of existence.

She shook her head.

The illusion shimmered once more, then slowly faded into particles of white.

"You... are a Paradox. With what surrounds you, forming your Tower will be easy."

Noah didn’t smile. He didn’t scoff. He simply tilted his head and shook it slowly.

Easy?

Inside, his thoughts moved like sharpened glass. For him, it would never be that simple.

Because it would not be a single Tower of Origin he needed to forge.

It would be more than one hundred and fifty.

For each True Source. For each branch of his endless self.

He wouldn’t need just a thousand times more authority. He would need many, many times more. A scale beyond measure.

Outwardly, his gaze met hers evenly. He said only, "I’m somewhat of a troubled case. I’ll likely need a thousand times the energy compared to others when forming a Tower."

Her brows arched slightly.

Noah raised his hand, palm open- measured, steady.

The same gesture she’d used in the Paradoxical Prison.

"Bring your hand close," he said.

There was no uncertainty in his voice. Only the kind of steel that didn’t bend as it seemed more of a command!

Moiraine’s eyes flickered once before she moved. She raised her own hand, still blazing with Living Paradoxical Authority, and placed it against his.

And in that moment...

BOOM!

A blinding white-gold light flared between their palms. It didn’t just shine, it seared. From the core of that joined gesture, lines of Living Paradox shot outward- curling, dancing, folding upon themselves into a living infinity symbol that hovered between them.

At the center of it all, stood them.

At the center of it all, was him.

HUUM!

The Dyson Singularity responded. The sea of paradox convulsed and surged as if an old sun had reignited. Every moment, tens of thousands of Existential Dimensional Lattices surged into Noah, not just for Paradox, but for every True Source his body could contain. His Lineage. Every Origin. Every Source.

His body didn’t reject it.

It demanded more!

Noah’s gaze burned. His voice dropped low, his words like declarations.

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