Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 4403

Chapter 4403: Ormordnes I

Ormordnes.

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

Some across countless eras had attempted to capture its essence, to define what it meant when existence itself seemed to turn against hope.

Some held that Ormordnes was the recognition of unchangeable circumstance...the moment 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 outcome was predetermined, and that all attempts to change it were merely theatrical gestures in a play whose ending had been written before its beginning.

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

It emerged 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 meant!

—

At an unknown point in time, 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 parameters to accommodate them.

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

Eventually, THE Living Origin spoke, and the voice that emerged seemed weary and tired.

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

THE Creature remained silent for a moment, 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 outcomes, 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 moment 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 disillusionment.

"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 moment... 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.

Some had been split cleanly as if by precision instruments. 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.

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

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

Bodies that had contained enough power to reshape Folds now served only as monuments 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 tremendous strain, body shuddering lightly with effort.

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

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

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

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 something beyond, something only it could perceive.

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