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Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse (Web Novel) - Chapter 5729: A Glorious Dream! I
Chapter 5729: A Glorious Dream! I
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Noah looked down, and it was like standing on the ceiling of the world.
That was the gift of the mask. Shaped to look like one of Those Who Remain, his gaze sat over the Cabin the way theirs did, high and unhurried, and the whole story churning below him lay open like a map he could take his time with.
He didn’t have to reach for anything. It came to him. Every rank of Descendant, every current of dark power, every thread of the thing THE Overseeing One had staged, all of it hung open under the blue-gold eye, waiting.
He’d done nothing but dream, and the prompt came anyway!
|You are dreaming a dream quintessential to THE Human Dreamer: to watch existence as the watchers do, and to be one of them without being one of them.|
|Provenance rises for the sheer scale of the thing dreamed.|
|+9 PROVENANCE ESSENCE.|
Growing while he sat still. It was a strange feeling. He understood now why the watchers in their high towers never seemed to tire. For the right kind of thing, watching wasn’t idle.
It was eating.
His panel settled into the corner of the dream.
|THE True Human Emperor / THE Human Dreamer|
|VERITAS: 207|
|PROVENANCE: 219|
|POTENTIA: INFINITE|
|PONDUS: 208|
|OSMONTIAN MOIRAI: 226|
|(Totals shown. THE Enduring Gu Elsedimension Ring contributes +20 and THE Existential Foundational Narrative Inscription contributes +50 to every attribute, folded into the above.)|
|Inscription: THE Existential Foundational Narrative Inscription, Tier 1, left forearm. Perpetual Baryogenesis. The Unanimous Blow. Bedrock. Sediment-Shed Integration. One Foundation.|
He let the numbers go and looked at the people.
That was the first thing Sonder had taught him. He looked at their dreams, and every existence below him turned into a small cloud of gold, and inside each one was the single thing that being wanted more than anything else.
He started with Eckert.
The Great Usurper sat still inside a stolen body, one mind wearing a thousand men, and his dream was the smallest thing Noah had ever pulled out of something that big. Eckert dreamed of an easy life.
Sit still, grow stronger without trying, let the stories he cleared pay out their loot on their own and drop it in his lap. Let the unity spread by itself. Never lift a hand again.
Not a conqueror’s dream. A grand thing’s dream of never having to try again!
Noah moved to the man with the bow.
The Peacemaker dreamed of peace, but not a soft one. His was a peace he built himself, big, and where it had to be, bloody. He’d loved people once and put them in front of something, and it had cost them, and under everything he did now ran one flat promise. Never again!
He would make Existence safe for what he loved even if he had to drown half of it to do it.
Peace, at whatever it cost.
Then the three who didn’t belong here, standing behind the bow.
Descartes dreamed of a face. He wanted to stand in front of an Immense One, look it in the eye, and tell it plainly that it was wrong. He wanted to turn the whole of existence back into a thing of the mind, where greed and power weren’t the point of anything, where thought ran Existence instead of hunger.
The Primordial Paradox dreamed of understanding. He wanted to hold the contradiction of existence in his hands and turn it, to catch the impossible thing whole, and then, having caught it, to change it, with the paradox out in front of everything he made.
And Erwin, the Living Paradox, dreamed of knowing. He wanted to sit at the still center of all of it, every fact and record running through him at once, the man who knew everything and was known by all of it. Under that, quieter, ran something else. He’d let his teacher down once. He wasn’t going to do it again.
Noah held all five dreams at once and understood.
They weren’t the same dream. But every one of them could be helped by the same hand, if the hand knew where to push.
Then his gaze went to the middle of the dark army, and he found the thing they’d been set against.
—
The Dark Lord stood at the center of his own shadow.
Tall, old, in no hurry. His details came clear for Noah in cold, clean lines.
|THE DARK LORD|
|VERITAS: 116|
|POTENTIA: 121|
|PROVENANCE: 0|
|PONDUS: 114|
|Authority: DIMENSIONALITY THAT NULLIFIES. What his power touches ceases to hold whatever authority it held.|
Over a hundred in everything you could count. Noah saw why the Overseeing One had picked this one to break heroes on. Eckert and the rest were big. This one was bigger, and worse, his power didn’t add to a fight!
It took away.
Whatever it touched just stopped being what it was, and a thing that could unmake power by brushing against it was a wall no borrowed strength could climb.
Then Noah read the Dark Lord’s dream, and stopped.
It wasn’t what the Overseeing One had written him to be.
The Dark Lord didn’t dream of winning, or of killing the heroes sent at him, or of pleasing the eye above. He dreamed of being left alone. A place that was his, that nobody reached down into and rearranged, where the ones under his shadow answered to him and not to some hand in the sky writing endings for all of them. He’d been given the part. He hadn’t asked for it. And under the defiance ran the oldest, plainest thing in the whole story. He was tired of being a piece in another man’s game.
Noah looked at that dream for a while.
It...could be worked with.
—
|THE OVERSEEING ONE observes his narrative with satisfaction.|
|The heroes are outmatched. The Dark Lord holds the center. The story bends toward the ending he authored.|
The battle started below.
The dark army came on slow, a tide of shadow, rank folding into rank, and the ground went grey ahead of it where the Dark Lord’s power ran out in front of his soldiers like ink in water.
THE Peacemaker held the front with the three behind him. Noah could see the shape of it before a blow landed. The heroes had strength. The Dark Lord had the one thing strength couldn’t touch. Where the two met, the heroes’ power would just stop being power, and then the shadow would close over what was left!
Good ending, as staged endings went. The Overseeing One had picked his ground well. A thing that unmakes is the right executioner for a story about heroes who rise, because the higher they climb, the more there is to take when the dark finally reaches them. Every gain the story let them make was only more to lose at the wall.
This was a show, put on for no one but the man putting it on, a story told to a mirror. And the people in it were real, and would die for real, so a bored thing in the sky could watch itself be clever.
How fucking abysmal.
So Noah started helping.
He didn’t come down, and he didn’t show his hand. His narrative stayed masked, a weak watcher come to spectate, under the Overseeing One’s notice. What he had was quieter than a gaze, and it was his alone.
A long time ago, before any of this, back when Eckert and THE Peacemaker and THE Primordial Paradox all still lived in the same Observable Existence he did, Noah had left something in them. A thread of his old Infinity, seeded into three of them. It had cost him nothing to leave. It cost him nothing to reach now. His Infinite Sanguine Mana, which he could spend forever, ran down those three old threads like water finding a channel it had cut a lifetime back.
He aimed it at their dreams.
THE Peacemaker drew his bow at the dark army, one gem burning on his chest. Noah pushed his old Infinity into the man’s dream of a hard, chosen peace, and the arrow left the string carrying unfathomable immensity.
Mind you, Noah’s trueness and Pondus were above 200 each!
It cut a road through them.
BOOM!
|The Peacemaker’s shot exceeds its measure.|
|THE OVERSEEING ONE notes the discrepancy with mild interest.|
Eckert sat idle, and his unity crept through the army the way it always did, mind to mind, unseen. Noah fed the old thread in him and the easy dream sharpened. The unity didn’t spread faster. It spread quieter, sinking into the dark ranks under the Dark Lord’s notice, seeding a thousand shadowed soldiers without lighting one of them purple where the eye above could catch it.
Eckert did nothing, and grew, and that was exactly his dream, so the dream carried it!
