Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse Chapter 4403: Ormordnes I

Ormordnes.

The word carried heavy weight beyond its simple definition of despair.

So across countless eras had attempted to capture its essence, to define what it ant when existence itself seed to turn against hope.

So held that Ormordnes was the recognition of unchangeable circumstance...the mont when one perceived that no amount of effort, no application of will, no intervention of fortune could alter what had already been set in motion.

It was not sadness at loss, but rather the profound acceptance that loss was inevitable and immutable.

To experience Ormordnes was to understand that one’s struggle had always been futile, that the outco was predetermined, and that all attempts to change it were rely theatrical gestures in a play whose ending had been written before its beginning.

Another perspective argued that Ormordnes was...the weight of infinite responsibility eting finite capability, the crushing realization that one was accountable for outcos beyond one’s power to influence.

It erged when duty exceeded capacity, when the role one occupied demanded more than existence could provide.

To feel Ormordnes was to understand simultaneously that one must act and that one cannot succeed, creating paradox that collapsed the will from within.

Both definitions carried truth. Both failed to capture the totality of what this word teuly ant!

—

At an unknown point in ti, in the Earliest Folds where existence wore its most pristine and terrible forms, two beings sat together staring out onto an expanse of white.

THE Creature and THE Living Origin.

Two entities who carried THE distinction, whose very presence made reality adjust its paraters to accommodate them.

They sat in silence for a ti, two impossibilities sharing space and neither speaking, as if words themselves had beco insufficient.

Eventually, THE Living Origin spoke, and the voice that erged seed weary and tired.

"Do you know the word...Ormordnes?"

THE Creature remained silent for a mont, its form utterly still as it contemplated the question.

Finally, it nodded.

"Ormordnes," THE Creature said, "is the state where one perceives clearly that all paths forward lead to unacceptable outcos, yet remaining stationary is equally impossible. It is the recognition that existence has constructed circumstance where there are no correct choices...only varying degrees of catastrophe. To experience Ormordnes is to understand that no matter what one does or does not do, collapse is inevitable."

The definition hung in the white expanse like a blaring accusation.

THE Living Origin remained silent for a long mont after those words, as if processing their implications or perhaps confirming their accuracy through lived experience.

"I did not believe," THE Living Origin finally said, voice breaking slightly, "that I could ever experience despair. After all, I am THE Living Origin. Countless beginnings bloom from my weavings of existence."

The voice carried confusion mixed with profound disillusionnt.

"How could Origin possibly experience despair? The very concept seems paradoxical...how can the source of beginnings encounter endings that cannot be transcended?"

Another pause, heavier than the first.

"And yet, on this day, at this mont... I feel that exact emotion with clarity that cannot be denied.I feel...Ormordnes. "

BOOM!

The words landed with existential weight, and THE Creature’s perception expanded to truly observe their surroundings.

The scene was apocalyptic beyond normal comprehension.

Countless white-gold structures...grand architecture that had taken eons to construct, buildings that had served as foundational pillars for entire Civilization..lay shattered and cracked.

So had been split cleanly as if by precision instrunts. Others had simply...collapsed, their structural integrity unmade.

The entire region within the Folds was filled with ravenous Tears of Collapse...genuine rips in existence’s fabric.

Existence in the surroundings seed to still be shuddering from whatever battle had occurred here, trembling like wounded creature that couldn’t comprehend the nature of its injuries.

THE Living Origin’s body looked like blinding brilliance of light shining white-gold.

But at this mont, massive jagged tears perated that brilliance...wounds that bled gold in slow, thick rivulets that stained the white expanse beneath.

The tears weren’t healing, weren’t closing, as if whatever had inflicted them had ensured they would remain open.

THE Living Origin’s gaze swept across the devastation of its Civilization, across the impossible scene of annihilation.

Trillions of unfathomably powerful Living Origins...beings whose Complexity had ranged in the Quintillions and even Sextillions, lay collapsed and dead.

Bodies that had contained enough power to reshape Folds now served only as monunts to catastrophic failure.

"You know," THE Living Origin said, voice carrying weight of shattered faith, "I always believed that whatever could possibly occur in the future, you would always be there for us. That as long as THE Creature, this grand being who exceeded even other THE entities...was present, everything would ultimately be acceptable."

THE Creature listened to such words as its own existence felt trendous strain, body shuddering lightly with effort.

THE Living Origin continued, and the words erged like confessions torn from unwilling source.

"But here we are, O Creature. My Civilization collapsed despite all our preparations and refinents. My very existence taken...claid as if I were resource rather than sovereign power. And you..."

The voice broke completely.

"Just where did things go wrong? At what point did our path diverge from possibility of success? Why did you not save , O Creature?"

...!

Heavy silence blood at those words.

But...

Was it the job of THE Creature to provide salvation? Why would THE Living Origin place such expectation upon another being, even one carrying THE distinction?

The questions hung unanswered as eventually, THE Creature looked out into the distance...not at the devastation surrounding them, but at sothing beyond, sothing only it could perceive.

When it spoke, the words erged with terrifying honesty.

"How could I succeed in saving others..."

"...when I could not succeed in saving myself?"

...!

The confession landed like final nail in coffin of hope.

THE Creature...an entity that other THE entities looked toward for resolution...acknowledging its own inability to prevent catastrophe even for its own existence.

If THE Creature itself was not immune, not capable of self-preservation against whatever forces had orchestrated this devastation...

What hope did anyone else possess?

Ormordnes.

Despair.

At certain points in existence, so beings experienced trendous levels of such state and emotion. It did not necessarily an that existence was against them or that reality had singled them out for persecution.

Maybe such beings were simply unlucky.

Maybe they were dealt bad hands through random distribution rather than targeted malice.

Maybe Existence operated without concern for fairness, and suffering was neither punishnt nor lesson...rely consequence of being present when catastrophic events unfolded.

Who knew?

Certainly not those experiencing Ormordnes, who could only endure and wonder whether aning existed in their collapse, or if they had simply been standing in the wrong place, at the wrong ti...when inevitability descended!