What he wanted was made clear.
And Moiraine nodded at him.
The paradoxical lights in the Dyson Singularity dimd for a mont- just long enough for Moiraine to lift her hand and wave gently through the dense golden mist.
An illusion blood into view. A...tower, if it could even be called such.
White and gold.
It twisted upward in layers, curving in elegant spirals, its base and every floor above ford by overlapping ouroboros rings- each one etched from uncountable Existential Dinsional Lattices.
Each curve of the Tower of Origin seed to wrap in on itself infinitely, like the symbol of endlessness itself was attempting to devour its own tail.
White gold strands of paradox laced the tower’s structure, pulsing with the silent rhythm of pure intent.
Moiraine’s voice broke the silence, calm and sharp.
"Past Limited Absolute Complexity is Absolute. Venerant. A Master of one’s Existence. Originus Venerant is the culmination of one’s True Source," she said. "To attain it is to fully know the story of your Source, its beginning, its end, its complexity, its purity, its faces beyond faces."
Her eyes flicked to Noah’s, luminous with deep truth.
"You enact a Tower of Origin from your Lattices. All of them. Your existence becos embedded in that Tower. Isolated from everything else. Closed off."
She gestured toward the spectral tower now winding endlessly upward.
"This... is the realm of beginnings. Here, Living Existences forge what defines them. Living Elentals manifest Towers born of the elents. Living Spirits carve from the echo of souls. Living Origins, absurd as it may sound, forge Origin Towers of Origin. And is it not paradoxical that every lifeform has to forge a Tower of Origin? That each life form, even Living Paradoxes, have to form such a thing at birth or later on?"
Her voice was almost musing to itself at the oddity of existence.
She shook her head.
The illusion shimred once more, then slowly faded into particles of white.
"You... are a Paradox. With what surrounds you, forming your Tower will be easy."
Noah didn’t smile. He didn’t scoff. He simply tilted his head and shook it slowly.
Easy?
Inside, his thoughts moved like sharpened glass. For him, it would never be that simple.
Because it would not be a single Tower of Origin he needed to forge.
It would be more than one hundred and fifty.
For each True Source. For each branch of his endless self.
He wouldn’t need just a thousand tis more authority. He would need many, many tis more. A scale beyond asure.
Outwardly, his gaze t hers evenly. He said only, "I’m sowhat of a troubled case. I’ll likely need a thousand tis the energy compared to others when forming a Tower."
Her brows arched slightly.
Noah raised his hand, palm open- asured, steady.
The sa gesture she’d used in the Paradoxical Prison.
"Bring your hand close," he said.
There was no uncertainty in his voice. Only the kind of steel that didn’t bend as it seed more of a command!
Moiraine’s eyes flickered once before she moved. She raised her own hand, still blazing with Living Paradoxical Authority, and placed it against his.
And in that mont...
BOOM!
A blinding white-gold light flared between their palms. It didn’t just shine, it seared. From the core of that joined gesture, lines of Living Paradox shot outward- curling, dancing, folding upon themselves into a living infinity symbol that hovered between them.
At the center of it all, stood them.
At the center of it all, was him.
HUUM!
The Dyson Singularity responded. The sea of paradox convulsed and surged as if an old sun had reignited. Every mont, tens of thousands of Existential Dinsional Lattices surged into Noah, not just for Paradox, but for every True Source his body could contain. His Lineage. Every Origin. Every Source.
His body didn’t reject it.
It demanded more!
Noah’s gaze burned. His voice dropped low, his words like declarations.
"Yes... This much authority," he said, "even early Originus Venerants couldn’t contain such authority. But I am not them."
His aura pressed outward, not with violence, but with grandeur.
"My beginning is vaster than theirs. My origin is deeper than theirs. Everything..." He leaned just slightly forward, his words brushing the surface of her mind, "...will be different from what you know."
Moiraine’s body trembled as the flow of Lattices rushed into Noah. Her own Paradox buzzed in rhythm with his.
He leaned closer, voice soft, yet unmistakably dominant.
"Do you know how to face change?" he asked her. "The kind of change you can’t explain?"
She started to respond, but he lifted one finger.
A mont.
"I don’t ask for philosophies," he said. "Just an answer."
Her lips parted, her breath even and cold as she continued to try and control herself from his unfathomable aura and sll! "I’ve lived a long ti. Sophistry like this is nothing to ."
"Then listen carefully," he said.
"Around , there will be boundless changes from what you know. Haven’t there already been?"
"..."
Her silence was telling.
"So when those changes co- when they rise like tides, overflowing your knowledge... don’t try to understand them."
His voice dipped.
"Think of it like a dance you don’t know."
The air between them pulsed once more with Lattices. His eyes bored into hers.
"Watch how I move."
The infinity symbol behind them spun faster.
"Then move with ."
Watch how I move, he had said!
And after a brief mont, Moiraine’s eyes were glazed with a light of intoxication as she moved!
With their palms pressed together, her white gold brilliance tangled with his archaic fla, swirling in a closed ouroboros spiral that cast long reflections over the molten folds of the Dyson Singularity.
The two of them stood as fixed points in an infinite swirl of paradox, but only one was still drawing it all in.
Noah Osmont.
An Early Creature.
A singularity unto himself.
The purity of the Dyson Singularity surged into him like rivers feeding an endless ocean. Yet it was not just the paradox around them, it was also the paradox within her.
Moiraine, a Foldless One distinguished across the Goldfolds, was no longer resisting. She was part of the current now.
Her essence, her Living Authority, flowed into him like a tributary of complexity joining sothing far greater.
Then, like a quiet bell tolling through the storm of thought...
BOOM!
|532,441 Existential Dinsional Lattices of the Living True Source of Paradox have been ford, attaining the prerequisite to begin enacting a Paradoxical Tower of Origin. All Lattices are required for the construction, and since it is a Living True Source, the required concentration of Existential Authority required is 100 tis compared to normal.|
...!
A single prompt. Yet its aning rang deeper than the Foldless Ones circling outside Dyson cores could possibly fathom.
Noah did not respond aloud.
He simply closed his eyes.
All the titanic waves of energy around him- the folds and torrents of paradoxical fire, ant nothing if they were not used well.
And so, he gave the only order needed.
"Begin."
...!
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