Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 5623

Chapter 5623: Glory! Quintessence!

His immensity rose rapidly as the Reverie went on, and within it, Noah had arrived at the edge of a decision!

The design was complete in him. Threads of Infinite Sanguine Mana, spun finer than any sense that would check for them, laid beneath the draw of lifeforms who believed their power was their own. All that remained was the first test, and the test had an obvious ground.

THE Ymnaros, fused and healing, where the folding of THE Vaelos had delivered millions of Infinite Lifeforms into his territory, weak and strong alike, every one of them pulling on seas they had never once questioned. He gathered the first threads at the edge of his existence, and prepared to let them go.

And THE Infiniverse shook at such a time.

HUUM!

It was not an attack, and he knew that within the first fraction of the tremor, because the shaking carried no wrongness in it at all. It carried the opposite. It moved through the grass and the river and the blooming skies in slow, enormous waves, and it felt, more than anything else, the manner in which a held breath feels when it is finally released!

Thalia’s hand tightened once in his. On the distant cliff, his mother had risen to her feet.

Prompts began to unfold, and they did not stop!

|More than 1,000 Observable Existences have now emerged within THE Infiniverse.|

|One thousand First Causes and foundations. Nine thousand seated Prime Causes and above, each declared true around its own founder, all of them rooted within a single containing existence. No record holds a precedent for this structure. The Causes do not merely reside within THE Infiniverse. They back her. A Dimension ordinarily stands upon its own foundation alone. THE Infiniverse now stands upon thousands.|

|Her Dimensionality has risen past all prior measure, and continues to rise.|

|A Unique Precept has arisen for THE Infiniverse: THE PRECEPT OF THE UNFOUND HEARTH.|

|Its truth: a home is not a place. A home is an arrival. What seeks THE Infiniverse as a place will never find her, for she has ceased to be findable in the manner of places. She may now traverse: gathering the whole of herself, every Realm, every nested Observable Existence, every life she holds, and crossing to elsewhere within reach of nearby Dimensions in a single unperceivable motion. These crossings are designated HEARTHSHIFTS. A Hearthshift emits nothing, disturbs nothing, and may not be perceived, predicted, or followed by any being of insufficient depth. Those within her will know they have moved only if she tells them.|

|THE Infiniverse is transforming. Designation: a UNIQUE TRANSFINITE DIMENSION.|

|She has crossed the wall your framework names. Her reserves no longer close. Her reach no longer ends. She is the first Dimension in your records to carry an Intent, a Precept, and a thousand rooted foundations at once, and existence has admitted her into deeper standing accordingly. The Finite may dwell within her without ever perceiving what holds them. The Transfinite may stand within her and still not find her edges.|

|And from the joining of her new depth with your Infinite Sanguine Mana, something is rising through her that belongs to no framework and no record.|

|Rivers of authority, unique to THE Infiniverse, are forming. Designation: THE CRIMSON WEFT.|

|THE CRIMSON WEFT runs through the whole of her: through every Realm, every nested Observable Existence, every life she carries. It is unperceivable to all beings and all instruments, at any depth, with a single exception: you. Its current is your Infinite Sanguine Mana. Its nature is binding: where the Weft touches an Observable Existence or a Dimension, within her or beyond her, it may latch, quietly and completely, and what it binds becomes reachable, anchorable, and holdable. A bound point may serve as an anchor for a Hearthshift. A bound existence may be fed, protected, or drawn upon through the Weft without ever perceiving the thread. Where THE Argent Loom is a road built by others and watched by others, THE CRIMSON WEFT is grown, and it is yours, and no eye in existence has been built that can see it.|

|The Weft deepens with every Observable Existence that takes root within her. It has only begun.|

...!

The prompts settled, and the changes began!

Across THE Infiniverse, the countless Realms answered her transformation one after another. Skies deepened in color, richer than any eye within them remembered. Rivers of light ran fuller. The thousand young Observable Existences turned brighter in their cradles, and between all of it, visible to exactly one being in all of existence, thin crimson rivers rose and began to thread themselves through everything, through farmland and citadel and sanctuary, through the roots of newborn foundations, unhurried and silent and everywhere at once.

Noah watched the Weft weave itself through his home, and on the far cliff, Seo-yeon laughed at something she could not see but could somehow feel, and the sound of it carried across the water.

Was this what the Pax had, when they looked upon their Argent Loom? He doubted it. The Argent Loom was inherited, and argued over, and possibly the extension of someone else’s thoughts. This had grown out of a mother and a bloodline and a thousand honest declarations, and there was no committee anywhere inside it!

So, with his home transforming around him and the Reverie still burning steady on its infinite subsidy, Noah released the threads.

They simply settled where each lifeform’s draw of Infinity met its source, finer than any sense that would ever check, and waited for the next pull. And when the next pull came, as it always came, the seas answered as they had always answered, and the answering was subtly different now, and not one being in all those gigaparsecs noticed the difference!

Their Infinity felt fuller, if anything. Cleaner. A well that had always been theirs, running a little sweeter than yesterday!

"It works," THE Provenance of the Closed Crown said. "So the only question left is pace. And I say we stop waiting for existence to get thirsty on its own."

"Meaning what, exactly?" THE Open Hand asked, though its tone suggested it already knew.

"Meaning that a well nobody needs is just water in the ground." The Crown’s voice ran low and unhurried, and there was a great deal of patience in it, and none of it was gentle!

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