The Forge above the Infiniverse Crucible pulsed gently, a heartbeat of creation and recursion.
I stood once more in my body, feeling the impossible weight of my Resistances settle over like a second skin.
Ruination and the Infiniverse were nearby, their existences vibrant, sovereign. My gaze lingered on them briefly.
Ruination, radiant and cold, was weaving a new authority into existence, a brilliant construct of devastation that shook the air around her.
An Existential Dinsional Lattice of Ruination.
It shimred.
It throbbed.
It howled silently with the promise of unmaking.
The mont it blood, the mont it solidified, I knew.
I smiled faintly.
Because now, it was mine too.
The mont she succeeded, the resonance extended toward , a thread of authority gifted by my unbreakable connection to her.
And with it, I could forge Lattices of Ruination.
A new avenue.
A new path to accelerate what I required.
To prepare not just for Bob.
Not just for the Hollow Concord of Nullity.
Not just for Aetheron Cael'Zhyr, the Hollow Pale One.
But for all the unseen threats out there.
I would not tread lightly toward them.
I would trample the path underfoot.
The key? It was Lattices.
Not rely accumulating more.
Forging them from every True Source I commanded.
Even though I was capped at nine per Source at the level of Primarchy for now, I had,
A great deal of True Sources.
I glanced around the Crucible, feeling the rain, the sacred weepings of creation, coat my skin.
Even muted, my existence felt heavy.
Not burdened.
Empowered.
I would raise other True Sources to the level of Primarchy.
I would forge their nine Lattices.
I would stack complexity atop complexity, purity atop purity, until the numbers surged.
Until the Quotients I needed were no longer distant targets but inevitable milestones.
My goal was clear.
My path, carved.
And so I moved.
I raised my hand toward the Forge, the beating, searing heart of the Crucible itself.
Rain swept around .
The air trembled.
Existence folded gently inward, not by command, not by authority, but by invitation.
I was not asking for power.
I was claiming it.
The Crucible had always been mine.
Now, it would rember.
The Forge of the Infiniverse pulsed above .
The Forge within , within my Autognosis Living Engine and Living Wheel, mirrored it, its heartbeat synchronized to sothing deeper, sothing truer.
And my Infinite Mana, the bottomless reservoir of cascading possibility, roared within its sealed depths.
I closed my eyes.
I reached.
Not outward.
Inward.
Where true dominion lay.
I called upon the power of my Lineage, Origin Pri Osmontian Infinitum, its Purity and Complexity so dense it threatened to collapse into its own axis.
I called upon Quintessence, the refinent of being itself.
Protagonist, the axis of narrative and control.
Infinity, the refusal of ending.
Loot, the dominion over inheritance.
Tyranny, the sovereign imposition of will.
Singed, the first rebellion.
Veritarch, Law and Dictate.
Conceptual, reality distilled.
Ingeniare, the design of all fraworks.
Eldritch Expanse, the wild unknown.
Ruination, the gospel of ending.
They answered.
Not with noise.
With existence itself bending.
I pulled from them, from the Forge raining above, from the Forge pulsing within, from Infinite Mana unsealing.
A thread.
A command.
An act of absolute, singular will.
Existence cracked, and the Crucible trembled.
And then, the Lattices ford.
Nine of them.
Nine Existential Dinsional Lattices of Ruination.
Each one a screaming fractal of collapse and entropy, each a lattice of unmaking woven with sovereign artistry.
| You have forged: Existential Dinsional Lattice of Ruination (x9). |
| Resistance Affiliation: Paradoxical. |
They settled around , orbiting like crimson executioners awaiting orders.
But I was not done.
No.
Far from it.
I turned my gaze deeper, to the True Sources that awaited Primarchy.
Wrath, the boundless inferno.
Necromancy, dominion over death.
Plot, the architecture of destiny.
Animus, the breath of life.
Dreams, the whispers of becoming.
Manadynamics, the science of force.
Entropy, the collapse of all things.
Tyranny, sovereign oppression.
Apocalypse, the inevitable end.
Cataclysm, the fracturing of all stability.
Kuklos, endless recurrence.
Outerversal, beyond simple existence.
Ordo Ab Chao, order from chaos.
galos, majesty in infinite scale.
Each of these pulsed.
Demanded.
And I answered.
Not with requests.
With decrees.
The Forge of the Infiniverse flared. The Forge within roared. Infinite Mana surged, a current no dam could contain.
I pushed.
Pushed the Sources.
Dragged them, kicking and screaming, across the threshold.
Their Complexity and Purity Quotients erupted, broken by my will and reforged anew.
| True Source of Wrath: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Necromancy: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Plot: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Animus: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Dreams: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Manadynamics: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Entropy: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Tyranny: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Apocalypse: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Cataclysm: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Kuklos: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Outerversal: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of Ordo Ab Chao: Achieved Primarchy. |
| True Source of galos: Achieved Primarchy. |
HUUM!
Thunder rumbled.
Not of weather.
Of majesty.
Of inevitability.
A storm of existence collapsed inward around , Lattices of myriad colors forming, each one intricate, fractal, sovereign.
One after another, Existential Dinsional Lattices blood.
Nine for each Source.
Dozens upon dozens blood.
The Crucible howled as if caught in the birth throes of a new Wheel of Existence.
Above , the Forge raged.
Below , the Crucible bowed.
And across from , others watched.
Romulus stood silent, hands folded behind his back, entropy cloaked around him like a funeral shroud.
The Witness was beside him, blindfolded gaze lifted toward .
Arthur, the Omnifather, and others, Titans in their own right, watched.
But it was Romulus who looked somber.
The Witness turned to him, curious.
Arthur too.
"Why so serious, Primarch?" the Witness asked softly.
Romulus exhaled, a breath heavy with the weight of aeons.
His voice was low, resigned.
"I have been forging Lattices of Entropy within my existence for many years," Romulus said. "Painstakingly. Slowly. Carefully."
He tilted his head slightly, gazing at the storm surrounding .
"What I am watching him do now should take years."
He paused.
Shook his head.
A faint, sad smile touched his lips.
"I thought myself exceptional. I believed it."
He sighed.
"But watching this…"
Romulus glanced down.
"…it is just heartbreaking."
The Witness was silent.
Arthur too.
They felt it now, the weight.
The terrible, magnificent difference between and them.
But I?
I heard.
I processed.
And I dismissed.
I did not feel pride.
I did not feel validation.
I compared myself to no one.
Only myself.
The one who ca before.
The one I must exceed.
It was always .
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until I stood alone atop an existence no other could perceive.
Until all Fables bent not in reverence, but inevitability. But even then, I wished there would always be sothing more to ensure that my path was truly infinite.
The storm around sharpened.
Each new Lattice shone.
Each Lattice scread.
Each Lattice obeyed.
Purity and Complexity swelled.
Numbers cracked upward like avalanches.
And I stood at the heart of it.
Not untouched.
Not exalted.
But inevitable.
Quintessential!
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