Chapter 3667 Ashes II
A terrifying Harmonized Sourcebound Icon Complexity erupted before Bob.
The Pillar of Concordance it conjured lashed out, wrapping violently around Bob and burning everything he held as it was unfathomably heavy and seeking to purify and scorch entirely!
Khaos burned.
The remaining half of the white Wheel in his hands began to disintegrate in flickering, golden flames.
And Bob—Bob let out a guttural, broken howl that echoed across frequencies.
"I. JUST. WANT. TO. SAVE. HER!"
HUUM!
The shattered white Wheel pulsed in his grasp, unleashing the wails of countless quintillions of bound souls.
It burned with terrifying brilliance. Bob took the broken Wheel and swung it against the pillar raging around him.
BOOM!
Like a fissure tearing through the very layers of existence, the Pillar of Concordance split—flickering in and out of reality before shattering into oblivion.
Without pause, Bob seized the trembling, ruined Wheel like a spear. His arm swung back before he hurled it- tumultuous, raw, and final…toward the Origin Singed.
OOOH!
A cataclysm of complexity roared as Noah's own True Source of Existence surged forward like a tidal wave- black stellar seas howling through the void.
But it was a beat too slow.
Just a breath too far away.
Because in the moment before Noah's source could sweep the battlefield, the shattered white Wheel struck the chest of the Origin Singed.
BOOM!
A Dead Absolute Complex True Source—shattered though it was—slammed into a freshly returned Origin Singed. The impact hurled him back, his chest splitting open in a torrent of glowing, white-gold blood.
With a livid glare, the Origin Singed tried to pull the embedded Wheel from his chest—but it was like dragging the weight of endless complexity.
It anchored him.
It dragged him down.
Toward the endless white-gold seas below.
And Bob? He surged forward once more.
A Harmonized Sourcebound Icon manifested, the Origin Singed himself…only to be one-shotted by Bob in passing!
It wasn't to discredit the power of the Origin Singed—no.
He was one of the last sentinels left behind by the Wheel to stand in the face of annihilation.
But this enemy?
This enemy was obscene.
Far too obscene for the likes of common weavings to understand!
The Origin Singed had been bound by something no other enemy could conjure: a dead, half-shattered Wheel of Existence.
All he could do was raise his gaze and watch-watch as a Dead Thing neared the Wheel of Existence.
And in that moment, the Origin Singed howled.
"O Singed! Burn all that you have for the sake of the Wheel!"
His voice was thunder and reverence—laced with desperation. All across the void, figures of Singed in various complexities obeyed, bursting into radiant white flames that surged toward him as their expression were heavy. So, so heavy.
All… except two.
Emelline and Mysara stood frozen. Eyes wide.
Trembling.
Their strength… nowhere near enough for this battle, but the commands they followed were not of that Origin Singed!
At such a time—
Because if he didn't stop Bob now, Bob would reach the point of entry that led straight to the Wheel of Existence.
Noah turned to his dwindling seeds of stellar obsidian—the essence of his True Source of Existence.
He knew. He needed more.
More complexity. More power.
Because if he didn't stop Bob now, Bob would reach the point of entry that led straight to the Wheel of Existence.
His weavings buzzed violently—urging, summoning everything he had.
And from the depths of his soul, across all entangled paths…
|Master, I am here.|
The weavings of Ruination surged through him.
That inseparable, unbreakable connection.
And through her… he felt the birth of something terrifying.
|As a Ruined Miniare Wheel of Existence, I should have already been a True Source. But my complexity was too low. After consuming the Pieces and Spokes of the Wheel, I have reached the threshold. It is sufficient. My True Source is yours, Master.|
HUUM!
Her voice—serene and filled with adoration as though she wanted to give him everything she possessed.
And in that moment, she gifted him something wondrous—a spoonful of complexity that exploded through his being.
Prompts rose from the core of his Existence.
|The Pathway to the True Source of Ruination has been traversed by Ruination herself on your behalf.|
|The True Source of Ruination is budding within your Existence as your complexity reaches new heights.|
"…!"
Ruination.
Wondrously crimson. Fantastically destructive.
Noah closed his eyes.
And though he wouldn't dare speak the depths of his adoration for her—this construct that had stood by him, again and again—he gave her only two words.
'Thank you.'
…!
Just two words were what he uttered!
And across their connection, he felt it.
Her entire being buzzed—as if those words were the greatest gift she had ever received.
In that instant, he was gifted a True Source.
He felt it.
He communed with it.
And though time was cruel and fleeting, he understood enough in the span of an instant.
He understood what Ruination was.
And with his eyes locked on Bob—who was already nearing the edges of his obsidian restraints of the True Source of Existence.
Noah called out.
"Endless Ruin- Infinite Bastille."
…!
A whisper.
And yet, reality responded as if it had been screamed into its bones.
Reality turned red.
Existence bled.
And from every direction, crimson Pillars of Ruin bloomed, encircling Bob. And then, they were gone.
But above and below him, his reality shifted.
Bob was now sealed within a cylindrical crimson prison. No walls. No floor. No ceiling. Just a vertical tunnel of unending red—stretching forever.
Noah watched this unfold, his voice a lullaby of finality.
"No bars. No walls. Just a descent into endless Ruination… until you forget the very notion of rising."
…!
Bob's figure began to fall.
And fall.
Perpetually.
Around him, the weavings of Khaos and a spinning Black Wheel of Existence raged in defiance.
But now—it wasn't all about complexity.
It was about understanding Ruination itself.
Unless one's complexity entirely eclipsed Noah's.
Unless one could shatter the source of Ruination itself.
They would never escape.
This was…
Endless Ruin—Infinite Bastille.
An eternal prison.
A recursive tapestry of existential descent where time loops, and pain multiplies, where dread grows heavier the longer you fall.
Where rising… is no longer a concept!
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