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Now reading: Chapter 4412 Never Meet Your Heroes I from Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse, a Action novel by Adui.

In another direction across the Transcendent Quantum Folds, a singular figure stood suspended in void-like space.

Khor floated with perfect stillness, her diminutive form surrounded by profound sense of Hunger that wanted to claim absolutely everything within perception's reach.

The appetite radiating from her wasn't re desire...it was a force that recognized no satisfaction because satisfaction would an cessation of growth.

Her crimson eyes remained half-closed as she repeated sacred words to herself, voice erging barely above a whisper.

"Hunger is the fundantal acknowledgnt of incompleteness. We hunger because we recognize we are not yet whole..."

Her form pulsed with obsidian-crimson radiance.

"Hunger must remain carefree in its pursuit. To hunger with desperation corrupts the purity of desire."

The space around her darkened further, as if reality itself was being consud by proximity to her essence.

"True Hunger establishes natural hierarchy. Leadership flows toward the hungriest as naturally as water flows downhill."

She continued through all Nine Doctrines, each recitation reinforcing her existence's fundantal nature...reminding herself of imnsity accumulated across eons, anchoring consciousness against recent events of confronting THE Living Paradox and witnessing her people's suffering.

The repetition served dual purpose- ditation and preparing mind and essence for what observation was revealing.

Before her stretched sothing that should not exist in accessible space...a Unique Doorway to THE Loom itself, manifested as domain

hidden across different dinsions of existence simultaneously.

This felt like sothing only extrely powerful Living Dinsionals would be capable of creating.

Just to traverse the different layers of Dinsional Existence required to reach this point, one needed prerequisite of 1 Quintillion Complexity and Purity minimum.

As for the domain itself...

What Khor observed made her ancient composure pulse and tested.

A grand and sleek Citadel stretched before her perception- architecture and structures that were simultaneously weapons and works of art.

Tall silver buildings rose, their surfaces catching light that didn't originate from any visible source.

A few hundred Living Existential Armors- Justiciars, were stationed throughout the Citadel.

The Citadel itself connected to sothing far more disturbing...a manifestation of massive wall that stretched beyond visual limits in both directions. And fused to that wall...

Millions upon millions of Mutated Inevitabilities.

Khor's hands clenched involuntarily as she witnessed her people...or what remained of them after whatever corruption had been inflicted, trapped within the wall's substance.

Their bodies pulsed with synchronized rhythm of hunger and pain, tentacles writhing in patterns suggesting perpetual agony.

They seed to be devouring surrounding atmosphere continuously, consuming existence itself and feeding that stolen essence into the wall they had been rged with.

It was perpetual motion engine of suffering...exactly as THE Living Paradox had described in mocking tones during their confrontation.

Her people reduced to fuel sources, their fundantal nature corrupted and weaponized against them.

Khor looked at this reality with rage contained only by iron discipline accumulated across eons, repeating Doctrines of Hunger in her heart like mantras against descending into mindless fury.

She tracked the Justiciar she had followed from the battlefield, the entity that had fled later after THE Living Paradox manifested, watching as it approached the strongest presence within the Citadel.

That central figure radiated authority reaching 10 Quintillion in Purity.

The approaching Justiciar's grand armor, sleek white construction incorporating sharp white wings that folded against its back like blades awaiting deploynt, opened.

Plates separated along seams invisible until activation, revealing the pilot within.

A female Living Emotive gazed outward with expression mixing exhaustion and urgency.

Her features held delicate beauty that seed incongruous, her humanoid face frad by silver-white hair that moved as if

suspended in water despite no visible current.

Around her, other Justiciars stood with helms removed, revealing additional Living Emotives of various appearances...all humanoid, all

carrying exceeding beauty.

The 10 Quintillion Purity Living Emotive, clearly the commanding presence here, turned his attention toward the newly arrived figure.

His armor remained sealed, but his voice erged with perfect clarity nonetheless.

"Aileen, what manner of nonsense information did you transmit? Your report claid THE Living Paradox made personal appearance outside THE Loom's boundaries? Such occurrence would defy all established protocols."

Aileen shook her head with gesture mixing frustration and conviction, eting her leader's unseen gaze without flinching.

"Sir Qanan, I anticipated skepticism, but circumstances demand belief despite improbability. The Will of THE Living Paradox genuinely descended, manifesting through the corpse of a deceased Living Paradox. And it was opposed by an entity possessing terrifying power...possibly exceeding even your capabilities, Sir."

She paused, ensuring her words registered fully.

"I experienced profound sense of suffocation rely from proximity

to this being. I couldn't discern much of their discourse due to overwhelming pressure, but there was explicit ntion of Khor, The First Hunger herself. As if she was present, as if she had sohow returned from collapse that should have been absolute."

...!

The surrounding Living Emotives exchanged glances mixing disbelief.

Such claims bordered on impossible, yet Aileen's deanor showed genuine conviction rather than delusion or exaggeration.

Sir Qanan's presence seed to intensify, authority pressing outward

as he processed implications.

"Anything remains possible within existence's infinite permutations, but I harbor substantial doubt that an entity as monuntally significant as THE Living Paradox would bother dispatching even fractional portion of his consciousness outside. We should represent the strongest existences operating in external territories of THE Loom unless multiple Civilizations began manifesting independently within the Wandering Territories."

His tone shifted, carrying challenge mixed with curiosity.

"This entity you perceived as potentially superior to myself... we shall

see. If such being truly exists, eventual confrontation becos inevitable given our operational paraters."

As he spoke, Sir Qanan turned to gaze at the massive wall behind

him...that terrible structure incorporating millions of suffering

Inevitabilities.

On its outline, barely perceptible unless one knew where to look, a

faint doorway could be seen.

A conceptual threshold, a gateway between domains operating under

fundantally different rules.

"We will continue executing The Will of THE Living Emotive here

without deviation," Sir Qanan declared.

"Upon completion of our assigned task, we shall be blessed with entry

into THE Loom itself, rejoining our Civilization and receiving rewards comnsurate with service rendered. Since the appointed ti approaches with increasing proximity, we cannot afford errors or hesitation. We will proceed with utmost caution and not slip up."

HUUM! The surrounding Living Emotives nodded in synchronized agreent, expressions showing dedication mixed with anticipation of promised

rewards.

They possessed no awareness that at this precise mont, in the distance beyond their perception's comfortable reach, ancient eyes blazing with crimson fire of Hunger were observing them with a gaze carrying imasurable coldness.

Khor watched the Justiciars and the pained Mutated Inevitabilities

fused to that terrible wall, and in her heart, judgnt had already been rendered absolute.

But she was now calm. She knew what had to be done.

She reached out to the man who made it possible for her to even be here to potentially recrify the wrongs being done to Inevitabilities!

Far within the Wandering Territories, a different scene was unfolding

with its own weight and consequence.

Noah sat in the center of large plot where radiant golden tree

extended upward with impossible vitality, its leaves shining like miniature stellar bodies...each one a sun in compressed form,

radiating warmth.

He and several others he had brought into the Sanctuary of The First Farr had spent the past subjective day observing accumulated accomplishnts...witnessing what The First Farr had built, what Civilization he had attempted to forge.

Attempted.

The word carried weight of unfulfilled potential, of dreams

interrupted before reaching fruition.

At this ti, behind Noah's seated figure, another presence

descended through air with grace.

Elyndra floated downward with movents resembling falling leaf.

Her gorgeous figure remained ridiculously beautiful. Golden hair cascaded past her shoulders in waves. Blue eyes, color of deep ocean, held depths of intelligence mixed with carefully concealed conflict.

She wore green dress at this mont, garnt that appeared woven

from living plants rather than simple fabric, leaves and vines arranged into elegant patterns that moved with her breathing.

She descended until floating beside Noah's position. "Friend that is not quite friend, we have completed preparations. We are positioned to depart and bring the accumulated boons of the Sanctuary to your ho domain. Together...our combined forces will halt the advancent of The Dead into the Lands of The Living. Your

power and the remnants of my Father's work...we will be able to get

much done."

She spoke with confidence that seed rehearsed, as if convincing

herself alongside him.

Noah turned toward her, thoughts dwelling on his own developing Civilization and contemplating what exactly should be done with the Sanctuary of The First Farr.

He looked at Elyndra's figure, and in this mont, he consciously activated The Lens of Civilization with focused intent.

The mont perception shifted, prompts blood before his vision

with revelatory clarity.

LENS OF CIVILIZATION - INNER TRUTH ANALYSIS

SUBJECT: Elyndra, Daughter of The First Farr

SURFACE EMOTION: Confidence mixed with anticipation of

departure

DEEPER CONFLICT: Profound uncertainty regarding father's commands to cultivate relationship with you and reclaim Perpetual

Harvest

CORE BELIEF: Father is wrongly convinced this Principle represents

key to achieving THE distinction, even if it is true...is this really the way to go about it? HIDDEN THOUGHT: "Collaboration is the answer to building Civilization. Father may have lost his Way the day THE Living Emotive collapsed his dreams. I envision what Civilization of Farming could beco if freed from obsession with single Principle. But what can I do? I am dutiful daughter. I am loyal extension of his will. Yet I

wonder... I wonder..." DEEPEST TRUTH: Conflict between filial obligation and erging

independent philosophy regarding Civilization's true requirents

...!

Noah saw her complete inner landscape laid bare, understanding flooding his consciousness with clarity!

His eyes flashed sharply, but his external gaze remained unchanged...calm, analytical, revealing nothing of sudden insight.

He rose to his feet with fluid motion, voice erging with a casual tone that belied significance of his words.

"I will visit your Father before we depart."

HUUM!

Elyndra blinked in confusion, caught off-guard by unexpected

declaration.

"Oh? Certainly, but.."

Before she could complete her sentence, Noah took single step and

disappeared, the area he was just on showing swirling leaves of brilliance.

Elyndra remained alone in region saturated with scent of harvest and agricultural abundance, surrounded by products of her Father's obsessive cultivation.

Yet despite being imrsed in plenty, her existence seed to shine

with profound sense of desolation.

She sighed deeply, arms wrapping around herself in unconscious gesture of self-comfort, and her gaze continued carrying that terrible conflict....duty warring against erging conviction that perhaps Father's path had diverged from wisdom into obsession. The golden tree above her continued radiating warmth, indifferent to the turmoil of the small figure standing in its shadow.

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