As the weavings of an Amarantos Dream unfolded with obscurity in one region.
Across the Frequencies of Existence, other weavings manifested gloriously.
In an unknown Frequency.
Dazzling, multicolored rivers of reality swirled around a particular region, stretching outward for light-years.
At the center of these rivers stood a figure- Bob!
A placid expression filled his eyes as he toyed with a Node of Existence.
Before him hovered two dazzling Wheels of Existence, one black and one white as they were manifestations of profound power- of True Sources!
He held a sense of wonder and clarity as he gazed into the depths of these Dead True Sources.
Within their intricate design and countless spokes, one could see the weavings of entire seas of existence.
Seas of weavings.
At this mont, Bob focused on a specific subsection of the black Wheel of Existence.
Between two spokes lay a thick, dark sea- a place where the wails and screams of quintillions echoed.
These wails were drenched in pain and terror, the kind that would drive any being mad if they listened for even an hour.
And yet, Bob had listened to them endlessly, for eons.
Not just from this small subsection of the black wheel but from its vast expanse and from the white Wheel of Existence as well.
The screams of grief, indignation, fear, and hopelessness-he bore them all!
Over and over and over again.
Now, in the section he studied that was buried beneath countless weavings, he found the collapsed existence of none other than Giuseppe.
Linked to him as a True Bearer of Despondency, Giuseppe's very foundation now resided within his Source of Existence.
Bob reached out, his limb plunging into the dazzling black wheel and wrapping around the wailing weavings that once were Giuseppe.
BZZT!
A heavy friction surged, the effort monuntal, but Bob did it anyway.
He grasped the weavings, like a singularity in his hand, his eyes flickering as he began reading its mories.
A mont later, he let out a light chuckle.
"A single second...this was the extent of the forces I prepared required to be utterly erased from existence?"
He shook his head at the absurdity, but he did not deny it had happened.
Over the eons, Bob had co to understand a truth.
Existence could be utterly ridiculous. Depending on who you were and what you did, you might be embraced by the weavings of existence, or you might stand against them.
Bob was currently standing against them.
The weavings of existence, especially in an Absolute Complex True Source, were unfathomably powerful.
A single action from him could trigger a cascade of disproportionate reactions from existence itself.
Noah Osmont...he appeared to be one such disproportionate reaction.
Yet Bob continued.
For him, there was no other path, only forward.
He fed complexity into the collapsed weavings that were Giuseppe as in seconds, the wailing ceased.
Monts later, Bob released his tentacled limb, and the illusory figure of Giuseppe reford before him.
A terrifying work of complexity.
Giuseppe regained cognizance and cried out after another few seconds.
"I WILL kill him. I will kill Osmont!"
His existence blazed with fury as the last thing he rembered was being engulfed in endless flas.
A ball of fire had consud him and thousands of others in re seconds.
Now, pulled from a Dead True Source, Giuseppe had beco a Dead Weaving of existence that was unable to return to what he once was.
At this mont, Bob shielded his own weavings with the black and white wheels spinning above as from here on out…
HUUM!
A black suit enveloped Giuseppe's body.
His weavings of existence began to climb, rising from a Lesser Source surging toward the Pri.
Eventually, the weavings ignited with the terrifying force of an Undeniable Telos Pri Source Complexity. Giuseppe's screaming stopped as he fully sensed his surroundings.
Unlike his previous dreams, he saw sothing that was very real.
He stood before The Despondent One, fully and truly. His existence trembled.
Bob looked at him and spoke calmly:
"I told your child, even if you died... I would still call you out. Co now, step aside as the others are recalled. Your work is far from being done."
…!
Terrifying words.
Giuseppe nodded fervently, his weavings trembling as he thought of the one who had ruined everything in the Frequency of Life.
Now, that sa being had erased his weavings in the Frequency of Flas.
The feeling of his own existence collapsing and disappearing...it was one Giuseppe never wanted to experience again.
He looked at the Despondent One and wondered.
Could he ask for even more power? Enough that Osmont could never touch him again?
He asked himself this question, unaware of what was currently unfolding within an Amarantos Dream.
From the black and white wheels of existence shimring above, surrounded by multicolored rivers of reality, Bob continued.
He pulled out collapsed weavings of existences, reviving them and making them stronger!
It was a shocking feat of complexity as from this point forward, there would be no redundancy.
His work had only begun.
After all, he wouldn't simply restore collapsed weavings to what they once were.
They had to be better.
They had to be improved!
They had to be just as ridiculous…as the one who had collapsed them!
—
Back in the Pri Frequency of Flas, the gazes of the Singed burned around Noah as they were intense, reverent, and expectant.
But Noah had long since grown used to such looks.
Awe, shock, and even fear- they had followed him for an extrely long period of ti. They no longer stirred his existence nor strengthened his weavings. They simply were.
He called to his weavings and floated toward the towering white-gold fla, the one Elline of the First Fla had said held the embers of Ezekiel.
He had encountered many flas in recent tis. This one, in truth, seed almost lackluster. It lacked the chilling majesty of the silver-white Primal Fla of the Wheel, or the dreadful power of the fla crafted from the fusion of his own weavings and the Infiniverse galos- the construct that burned at the heart of his greatest weavings.
Yet this fla before him possessed a grandeur of its own. When Noah appeared before it and placed his hand within its burning light, the Sacred Fla opened to him as if recognizing old weavings.
HUUM!
User Comments
0 comments from readers