Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3710

Choices!

They were being made in a certain Wheel of Existence, in an insignificant corner of the Nullvein Gravewake Folds.

And elsewhere, far from that place, other choices were being made.

Choices tied to something that had recently left that very same Wheel. Or perhaps it had left ages ago. Time, after all, held no fixed meaning in the Nullvein Gravewake Folds, where paradox, collapse, existence, and nonexistence twisted together.

That something was none other than Bob. He moved through the Nullvein Gravewake Folds, his form surrounded by an illusory Black Absolute Complex True Source, a Dead Wheel of Existence.

He seemed to cross vast distances in a single second, then linger in place, unmoving, for what felt like an hour.

His True Source pulsed with terrific complexity and purity one moment, only to flicker into silence the next. And after an indeterminate span of time and space, he finally caught hold of the thread of weavings he sought.

He pulled on it.

Encased within an obsidian Wheel of Existence, his figure was drawn into the Folds and vanished.

When he reappeared, the figure of Bob stood in a region that defied description. Terrifying landscapes stretched around him.

To his left loomed the shattered remains of a massive Wheel of Existence. Crimson bled from its edges, a haunting allure. Though fractured, the space it encompassed spanned far beyond the visible, only an overabundance of authority could fully observe its breadth.

To his right, an even larger Wheel stood, nearly intact. But a closer look revealed a crack across one spoke, its rim torn, the damage subtle but vast.

And ahead…

More remnants of Wheels of Existence, not scraps or traces, but full, enormous structures.

A graveyard of Wheels.

A cemetery echoing with loss, not just life lost, but death lived. In these wheels, the weavings of the dead coiled and danced.

Even the spokes, cloaked in a deathly allure, radiated the echoes of frequencies, no longer endless in potential but locked in finite possibility.

One shattered Wheel had hundreds of massive spokes, each a dead frequency.

Other Dead Wheels had thousands. Predetermined, extinguished, and yet still inhabited by Dead Things.

Entities locked in limited time, their continued presence enabled only by the dying inertia of the Dead Wheels.

In some of these broken wheels, the auras of Converged Architects still lingered.

Others held a Resplendent Monad or two. Dozens of Harmonized Sourcebound Icons clung to their fading purpose.

Bob entered such a place. And at the moment he did, he knew there would be no return.

Because now, he had stepped into the domain of a perilous Entity.

And because he had…

"You finally arrived. I have been waiting since the time you decided to seek me out, Little Bobby."

A calm, thunderous voice echoed through the dead air.

The obsidian Bob trembled with silent rage and hatred. But he restrained himself, continuing forward wordlessly, drawn toward the source of that voice at the heart of countless Dead Wheels of Existence.

There, something stirred. Terrifying in its complexity.

Yes.

The moment Bob had even thought of seeking the one responsible for the decimation of his Wheel, that being had known.

And now, after traveling untold distances through the Gravewake Folds, Bob finally saw him.

An Entity surrounded by immense purity and intricate complexity.

He sat upon a small throne, woven from collapsed paradoxes, existence, and nonexistence. The substance of the Nullvein Gravewake Folds themselves.

He looked human. Skin fair, brimming with life. Hair dark and shimmering, a well-trimmed mustache upon his face. His eyes glinted with ancient wonder.

And yet he lounged in boredom, as if watching something far away.