Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 5069

Chapter 5069: Barbaric!

In the spaces between Observable and Unobservable, darkness reigned absolute.

This region existed outside normal classification, a pocket of reality that belonged to neither the seen nor the unseen but occupied the bleeding edge where both forces met and failed to reconcile.

The air here was thick with authority that predated most current beings, pressure that would have crushed any existence lacking sufficient foundation to withstand it. Light came from no discernible source, yet somehow illumination existed.

Blood covered everything.

Crimson and gold mixed together across surfaces that should not have been able to hold liquid, pooling in depressions that formed patterns.

The smell of death permeated the space with intensity, pressing against awareness itself with declarations of violence recently concluded.

THE Creature sat upon a throne of corpses.

Horus lay beneath him, that ancient Primordial Architect who had terrorized regions of Observable Existence. His massive form stretched across the bloody ground, armored scales that had deflected countless attacks now torn and shattered in configurations of violence beyond what even Second Scale entities should have been able to inflict upon each other.

His chest cavity had been opened, ribs of crystallized authority spread apart like petals of some grotesque flower, revealing internal structures that pulsed weakly with fading life that refused to fully extinguish.

His eyes were gone, of course.

THE Creature had already displayed those to Observable Existence, had held them aloft as trophies for all to witness. But the rest of Horus remained, and what remained was being consumed.

Two other corpses flanked the fallen Horus.

The first belonged to a Proterozoic Scale Primordial Architect whose domain had once encompassed concepts of hidden knowledge and forbidden understanding.

His form was humanoid but wrong. His skin, where it remained intact, held patterns of script in languages that predated speech itself. Three Proterozoic Bones shone within his ravaged chest, their multicolored brilliance declaring their nature even in death. His spine had been partially extracted, vertebrae of transformed authority scattered around him like discarded jewelry.

The second corpse belonged to a Primordial Architect whose Civilization had revolved around bindings and contracts and obligations that could not be broken.

Her form was feminine in the way that weapons were feminine, elegant and deadly and designed for purposes that had nothing to do with comfort. Chains of solidified authority still wrapped around her limbs, broken now but still present, remnants of the power she had wielded before THE Creature decided she would wield it no longer.

Two Proterozoic Organs pulsed weakly within her opened torso, one where her heart should have been and another nestled against her spine, both radiating light that was slowly dimming as death claimed what life had built.

Three Proterozoic Scale Primordial Architects.

Three corpses arranged around THE Creature like offerings!

THE Creature himself sat upon Horus’s chest. Multicolored flames burned around his figure, fire that consumed nothing but illuminated everything with hues that existence rarely witnessed in such concentration.

His form was humanoid but ancient.

At this moment, one could see that all his bones held multicolored brilliance.

Every single piece of bone within THE Creature’s existence shone with the distinctive light of Proterozoic transformation. His skull blazed beneath flesh that seemed almost translucent in the flames’ illumination.

His ribs pressed outward against his chest with radiance that exceeded the corpses around him. His spine, his pelvis, his femurs and tibias and fibulas, every phalanx in his fingers and toes, all of it had been transformed!

He was not merely at THE Second Scale!

Oh!

Oh!!

He was something that made THE Second Scale seem like a waystation rather than a destination!

And he was eating.

A Proterozoic Eye Organ of Horus rested in THE Creature’s hands. THE Creature bit into it, his jaw working as crimson gold blood and viscera leaked down his chin and chest. The sounds of consumption were wet and horrible, flesh tearing and fluid spilling and authority being absorbed into foundations that were already beyond what most existences could comprehend.

He ate like a beast.

He ate like something that had abandoned pretense of civilization in pursuit of power that civilization could never provide.

And while he ate, he watched.

An illusory screen floated before him, displaying images that had been broadcast across Observable Existence through Noah’s spread Infinities.

The screen showed THE Youngest standing upon the chest of Beowulf, that massive Primordial Architect anchored by nine spears while another worked within his opened chest cavity. It showed torture being inflicted upon a Second Scale entity by beings who should not have been capable of such infliction.

THE Creature watched with eyes that held satisfaction.

Blood dripped from his chin as he observed Osmont’s work, remembering their fight long ago.

At this time, the fabric of this bloody domain shifted.

A figure stepped through barriers that should have been impenetrable, his scholarly robes somehow remaining pristine despite the carnage surrounding his point of arrival. Anaximander looked around the space with an expression that shifted from neutral to disturbed as he processed what he was observing.

His gaze moved across Horus’s ravaged corpse.

It traveled to the other scattered remains.

"We waited for you for too long in THE Lands of the Dead."

"You never came so I came to check. I did not expect this level of barbarity."

"All of Existence is barbaric, Anaximander."

"We dress our violence in philosophy and call it civilization. We frame our consumption as advancement and call it cultivation. We murder and devour and destroy, and then we write histories that make our atrocities seem inevitable..."

"I simply refuse the pretense. When I consume my enemies, I do not pretend it is anything other than what it is. When I tear apart those who would have torn apart me, I do not justify it with rhetoric about necessity."

"I am honest about what I am, Jokul."

HUUM!

"THE Youngest continues to exceed all expectations though, does he not?"

"But if he displays himself openly like this..."

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