Chapter 4301: Anomaly! V
Chapter 4301: Anomaly! V
He looked at Noah, his eyes now holding a deep, philosophical light. "I told them that science, that nature, that the very Way the world works told me what would happen. And then they said the words that changed everything for me."
Anaximander’s voice dropped to a whisper, a carrier of a terrible, beautiful truth. "They told me that all of that... is simply what others decided what nature is. That I was different. That my Way of Existence was special, unique compared to others. That what is known as a fact of reality may not be a fact for me. That I could bend it and change it."
He took a step closer, his eyes burning with the fervor of a convert sharing his gospel. "They told me I could take a step and truly appear all the way in outer space. That I could decide that nature is wrong. That I could simply decide that my Way, my nature, was to survive. And then they said..." His voice was a final, compelling call to action.
"So... just take the step forward. Ignore what nature is, and simply decide what your nature is. What your Way is. Come on, give it a try."
...!
Anaximander was expectant. He looked at Noah, at this being of impossible power, and he urged him, with a genuine, almost childlike, enthusiasm.
Noah listened to all of these words, his own eyes flashing sharply. He decides what existence is? Ignore nature? Ignore existence?
A brilliant, tyrannical light flashed in his eyes. He looked at the expectant Fold Dweller, and he spoke, his voice a calm, even, and utterly absolute declaration.
"Existence deems that I have the power of a few hundred Quadrillion Purity... but I actually have tens of thousands of Quadrillions of Purity."
...!
"..."
He said the words. He chose that nature. And... nothing happened.
"..."
He blinked. He looked towards Anaximander with bright, questioning eyes.
Anaximander frowned, a look of profound, intellectual concentration on his face. "Try again?" he suggested, his tone now that of a fellow scientist troubleshooting a failed experiment.
"But really believe it. That with surety, your existence will be that way."
Noah stared at this Fold Dweller up and down. Just who was this crook?
He shook his head, but he played along. His voice, this time, was not just a declaration, but a roar of pure, unadulterated, tyrannical will.
"I have actually attained the distinction of THE."
...!
He said it. He believed it. And once more... nothing happened.
"Huh..."
Anaximander stood in thought, his brow furrowed in deep, analytical contemplation. A moment later, his eyes shone with the light of a new, dawning comprehension. He looked at Noah, and a slow, almost apologetic smile spread across his face.
"I may have to thank you, friend," he said, his voice a mixture of gratitude and a faint, academic disappointment. "This experiment here may confirm the possibility thst was staring at me in the face but I did not wish to see... that what happened was unique to me. Something unique to my Code of Existence. This whole time, I may have been thinking that maybe I was not...alone in this. Oh well! But this is a bummer... how can I help you find your Way if mine is so different and solely related to me?"
...!
Noah looked at the brilliant Fold Dweller before him, at Anaximander, who was now gazing at him with an expression of profound disappointment.
He shook his head, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.
"It’s okay," he said, "I will find my own Way. But you said... others have attacked you before? How did you survive with no authority or mana?"
The question was a sharp, analytical probe- seeking the heart of the mystery that was Anaximander!
How could a being of no discernible power stand in a place that could unmake Quadrillions, and speak of being attacked as if it were a mere inconvenience?
Anaximander’s expression shifted, the disappointment giving way to a bright, almost childlike, enthusiasm.
"Ah, yes! That is the most fascinating part of my journey so far!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with the pure, unadulterated joy of a scientist who has just stumbled upon a new, beautiful law of nature.
He began to pace, his feet leaving no prints in the sparkling snow, his movements a graceful, almost weightless dance.
"After my... impromptu trip to the stars, and my subsequent realization that my existence did not have to adhere to the standard operational parameters of this universe, I knew I had to establish some new parameters of my own. A set of personal, existential guidelines, if you will."
He stopped, his eyes, which held a light of pure, unadulterated curiosity, fixed on Noah. "I have an internal journal," he said, a note of pride in his voice.
"In it, I have meticulously detailed every encounter, every observation, every new guideline I have forged for my own being. It is a work in progress, of course, but the core tenets are quite robust."
He raised a finger, as if beginning a lecture. "Guideline #1: I exist. A simple, but necessary, starting point. Guideline #2: I will continue to exist. A statement of intent. But Guideline #3... that is the one that has proven most useful in my travels."
He smiled, a brilliant, almost blinding, expression of pure, intellectual delight.
"Guideline #3: My existence cannot be unwillingly altered or ended by the will or authority of another. Any hostile action or intent directed at me will be treated not as an attack, but as an interesting, but ultimately irrelevant, external phenomenon for me to study and understand."
WAA!
The words were a quiet detonation in the silent, frozen air!
Noah stared at him, his own vast, analytical mind struggling to process the sheer, audacious simplicity of it.
"And it... works?" Noah asked, the question a whisper of genuine, profound curiosity.
Anaximander’s smile widened. "So far, the data is promising. I have been struck by a living mountain. I have been bathed in the conceptual fire of a sentient star. I have been... shouted at by a very angry, very large lizard. And in every instance, the result was the same. Their authority, their power, their very intent to harm... it simply did not apply to me. It was like they were speaking a language my existence no longer understood, or really, chose not to."
HUUM!
Noah’s eyes blazed with a tyrannical fervor.
"How about..." he began, his voice a low, dangerous murmur, "I try to attack you? For research purposes, of course."
Anaximander laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated delight. "But of course! I would be honored! Your authority feels... different. Denser. More complex. The data would be invaluable!"
He stood there, his arms open in a gesture of willing, enthusiastic acceptance. "So go ahead. Give it your best sho-"
BOOM!
Before the words could even finish leaving his mouth, Noah acted!
He did not move a muscle. He did not raise a hand. He simply... wove.
From the Crucible of Quintessence, he drew forth a river of his own, terrifying power!
He wove a spell of pure, analytical dread, a concept he named, in that very instant, [Existential Scrutiny].
It was not a blast of fire or a blade of force. It was a wave of pure, absolute judgment, a question asked of Anaximander’s very right to exist.
It shot forth, a beam of incandescent, white-gold light that was so pure, so potent, that it seemed to be the only real thing in this frozen, illusory world!
It was a thing of terrible, beautiful power, an attack that did not seek to break, but to dissect, to unravel, to understand its target to death.
And...
HUUM!
Ridiculously, it passed right through him.
"..."
Anaximander stood, bathed in the glorious, terrible light of the attack, and he was... untouched.
The Weave of pure, conceptual power washed over him, around him, through him, like a gentle breeze.
He blinked, a slow, curious movement, and then he looked down at his own, unharmed body, a faint, almost puzzled, smile on his face.
"Interesting, isn’t it?" he said, his voice filled with a genuine, almost childlike, wonder. "No matter how many times it happens, even I cannot quite believe it."
...!