Chapter 3796: Schemes and Entry II
In the shadows of fractures of forgotten folds.
Where the golden brilliance of the Sunfolds did not touch, and the weavings of Existence warped under deliberate secrecy, a triad of power had gathered.
Mist shimmered over countless golden Lattices- tightly bound constructs of concealment that even Originus Venerants would struggle to pierce.
Here, Master Hannibal stood still, his arms behind his back, eyes unreadable.
Two more had joined him moments ago.
One, a being cloaked in radiant cerulean, his body framed with four arms folded in thought, a third eye gleaming with arcane light on his forehead. This was Torus, a Master of Existence from the Mannafolds.
The other, an Atlantian woman whose lower half was a sweeping violet tail, her upper body regal, draped in weavings of folded time. Her name was Modiyana, of the Chronosect of Threadbound Folds!
“I assume,” she said coldly, her tone slicing through the mist, “that if you’ve called us here, you have a plan. One that could land us not just the Unbound Living Paradox… but the memoryless anomaly in this record.”
Her silver eyes narrowed, the implication in her words unmistakable.
“Even one Key is enough to change a Concord’s fate,” she added. “And the Chronosect recently traced a Key lost through time. It surfaced near a dying Wheel of Existence, but we lost it. All we recovered was a name. The one responsible…”
She trailed off.
A beat passed. Then…
Modiyana blinked.
Her tail stiffened behind her as if struck by lightning, and she suddenly sat upright, her composure visibly shaken.
“…What is it, Modiyana?” Hannibal asked evenly, no emotion in his tone.
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned sharply, gaze locked on the floating projection Hannibal had shared. Her voice was low and seething.
“I’m reviewing the Record you sent. When the Unbound Living Paradox… gave his name.”
A pause.
Then Hannibal finished for her, his words cold and precise.
“Noah Osmont.”
HUUM!
A silent pulse rolled across the misted chamber.
Modiyana’s tail swirled violently, cracking the Lattices of concealment as her aura spiked.
“My Chronosect division lost multiple Primarchs not long ago to a Noah Osmont. And… he held a Key. Motherfucker! The data from that encounter matches what I see now, I’ve confirmed both records!”
Her breath slowed, her expression grave.
“They’re the same. It’s him.”
…!
Silence followed.
These were not ordinary Fold Dwellers. They were Masters of Existence. Originus Venerant entities!
And they understood precisely what many things meant.
An Unbound Living Paradox.
Beings like him were nearly unheard of. Rarer than myth, closer to existential…mutations than birthright.
Mutations.
Anomalies.
They walked the same impossible path as the Foldless Ones, bearing grandeur so profound that even the Folds struggled to interpret their existence.
They also held a terrifying rate of mortality as Living Collapses hunted them constantly.
Most perished young.
But those who survived?
They were prized.
By Fold Dwellers. By Concords. By countless Wheels.
By those who understood what they truly were.
Three reasons existed for seeking out an Unbound Living Paradox.
The first and most immediate was the fact that their very being was an unparalleled tonic.
To a Master of Existence?
They were an elixir. A key to advancement.
A chance to leap forward in a path where growth had long since become impossible.
This was the only reason that mattered now.
Hannibal’s golden eyes gleamed as he turned to face the other two fully.
“It seems we must obtain Osmont,” he said quietly. “And the memoryless girl even more.”
He folded his arms slowly. “So… how do you want to go about it?”
Torus, silent until now, finally looked up. His third eye glowed like a miniature sun.
Beside him, Modiyana’s lips curled into a razor-sharp smile.
“If you can get us access, Hannibal…” she said, her voice like velvet over a blade, “we can accomplish many things.”
…!
No more words were spoken.
Three Originus Venerants stood in swirling silence.
Over a million Lattices twisted around them.
And behind their eyes?
Schemes layered over schemes.
They were not here to ask questions.
They were here to take!
And take…they would!
—
In the Veiled Sunfolds.
Where the golden luster of dying suns shimmered softly over the folds like a heartbeat wrapped in life.
Deep within the radiant Frequency of Fate, Noah slowly tilted his head. His gaze stretched far beyond the surrounding brilliance. Beyond the golden chains and curious gazes. Beyond the still-standing Masters of Existence.
Toward one particular thread of silence.
Toward Master Hannibal.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t need to.
The authority of Absolute Fictional Transcendence moved quietly through him, humming at the edges of thought like a book that read itself.
Absolute Fictional Transcendence.
He had given away narrative control while gaining the chance to glimpse even more!
This power was not omnipotence. No. But for beings entangled with him, however lightly, he could glimpse their Fables.
Not the whole story, just the edges of pages turned too quickly.
And now, even that was enough.
He saw flashes. Faint, fragmented.
Master Hannibal. A place cloaked in obscuring Lattices.
Conversations with two others.
One wrapped in the Mannafolds’ blue flames.
Another bound in the time-twisting scales of the Chronosect of Threadbound Folds.
And in their mouths?
His name.
Noah Osmont.
Noah’s smile unfurled slowly, devilishly. His eyes lifted and met Master Hannibal’s across the golden field, the flicker of a nod offered like nothing.
A nod that caused Master Hannibal to frown, and Noah looked away!
He had no delusion about his current strength. Master Hannibal was Originus Venerant- a Master of Existence.
Even peak Primarchs were far from Noah’s current level in head-on battle.
Right now, the most immediate wall in his path was clear.
600,000.
Both Complexity Quotient and Purity Quotient had to rise past this line before he could forge more than 81 Lattices per True Source.
He’d hit this limitation before at 300,000.
Another ceiling, another bottleneck.
And just like before, he would shatter it.
Forging new Lattices raised CQ and PQ naturally, but when he couldn’t forge more, he was left with three alternate methods.
Devouring others.
Battering and utilizing his True Sources in unrelenting repetition.
Or Dual Cultivation with higher beings.
The last… would come in time.
He already had the Infiniverse Crucible working overtime, forging progress through constant application of his True Sources. But even that had slowed.
From anyone else’s perspective, what he’d done was beyond impossible.
A surge to Primarchy and past 300,000 PQ and CQ in a handful of days?
Ludicrous.
Quintessential!
Tyrannical!
Paradoxical.
But to him?
Too slow.
He needed something else.
Most recently, he had the Paradoxical Wonder- the Null Cradle that compressed Complexity and Purity with every breath, and it now lay shattered.
But now, in his hand?
He held a key.
Not just to a Wonder.
Something older. Vaster.
Something that had drawn the eyes of all present!
Beside him, Sigrid Ivano still clutched the edge of his robe, cautious eyes flicking around at the crowd of impossibly powerful Fold Dwellers.
She didn’t know what she was.
Didn’t realize that she had given him a Living Origin Key of Existence from her own forehead.
Didn’t seem to care.
Noah glanced at her.
And then at the glowing crimson-gold key in his hand.
There was another, more personal goal tied to all this.
His identity ascension as an Anchor Being.
To push it forward, he needed more than strength.
He needed greater understanding of the Paradox.
More than that, he needed to elevate his Paradoxical Resistance.
The path forward was clear.
The pace would accelerate.
And the next steps?
He would take them with terrifying precision!
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