Chapter 3822: Morality I
Chapter 3822: Morality I
Noah didn’t move.
He stood before the obsidian coffin, his towering form of Ozymandias bathed in pale, paradoxical glow.
The aged woman within floated in a silence that was too deliberate. The cracks along her flesh shimmered faintly, revealing a vitality that defied the decay of time. Her presence thrummed with an unmistakable pressure.
A being at the peak of Primarchy!
Before him bloomed a holographic panel.
Name: Ysra the Offerer
True Source: Sacrifice
Purity Quotient (PQ): 921,340
Complexity Quotient (CQ): 947,901
Resistance(s): Origin 92%
Noah analyzed her calmly without making a move as if he were...judging her.
And then, the voice of Moiraine came.
"Oh, are you that type of Devourer?" she said with a smile, floating beside him. "The kind who seeks justification before devouring?"
She drifted closer, her golden eyes filled with Paradoxical wisdom. "You know, all Paradoxes devour. It’s not just what we do- it’s what we are. Alongside us, every entity that surpasses Originus Venerant must become a Devourer in some form. But there are always those who... hesitate."
Her voice deepened. "Those who say, ’I only devoured because they attacked me. Because they were evil. Because they hurt others.’"
She turned and gave Noah a long, knowing look. "Are you hesitating now... because she doesn’t fit your criteria for deserving it?"
Noah remained quiet as his eyes were filled with a light of profound serenity!
Moiraine’s smile widened. "Alright then. Let me indulge you. This old woman? She lived a life of carnage and decimation."
With a flick of her hand, an illusory screen emerged.
It flickered, then solidified.
Ysra stood tall in it, roaring with Authority.
Frequency after Frequency collapsed under her command. Entire civilizations crumbled.
Trillions perished. She wielded the True Source of Sacrifice to twist reality itself. Her blade tore across planes, painting death everywhere she went.
Moiraine whispered. "She moved past her Wheel through Sacrifice. Came across a Foldless One she dared to offend. And here she is now."
Then she turned, her golden eyes and gorgeous visage gleaming.
"So? Now that I’ve given you a narrative. Now that you can label her as bad or evil... are you more inclined to devour her?"
Noah said nothing. But his eyes narrowed.
Moiraine chuckled. "I was also going to lie to you afterwards if you did devour her. Tell you that she was actually a saint. That she saved countless lives, lifted civilizations, fought to preserve harmony. I was going to show you that same scene and say it was her defending trillions from destruction. And then watch your face as you realized what you’d done."
She floated before the coffin, arms crossed.
"Why? To teach you something simple. If you only devour what you label evil, you are no Paradox. You are just another Judge. Another weak-willed existence clinging to morality like it means something."
Moiraine exhaled slowly.
"You’re young. Nearing Originus Venerant. About to enter adulthood in terms of Existence. So I won’t speak to you like a child who doesn’t understand. But let me tell you something important."
Her voice grew softer, heavier.
"From now onwards, power will only come if you abandon the illusion of good and evil."
She raised a finger, pointing to him directly.
"Because for a Devourer, good and evil do not exist. They are illusions. Subjective. You will find one being’s saint is another being’s monster. And if you spend your time trying to categorize each life form by your limited understanding... you will never ascend."
Moiraine turned back to the coffin.
"You do not know her. You owe her nothing. Why should it matter what she did, or did not do? In this vast and ancient Existence, there have been more acts of cruelty and kindness than stars in the sky or the Wheels across the Folds. Injustices greater than your comprehension. Mercies deeper than you can measure. And yet you... we... are but specks. Meaningless in the grand scheme of Existence as from the Earliest Folds until now...our footprint will be absolutely nothing."
She gestured outward to the infinite Fold.
"Even if you lived a trillion years, you would be a spark in the wake of those who have already walked this path. Existence does not remember saints. Nor monsters. Only echoes. And those echoes are buried beneath layers of silence."
Her voice hardened.
"Good and evil have no weight in the folds. Only power. Only progress. Only Paradox."
Moiraine looked over her shoulder, eyes gleaming.
"So cast it off. All of it. Do not let the noise of morality guide your hand. Guide it yourself. You are a Devourer. Be one."
A pause.
Then she laughed, brushing her golden hair back.
"Ah...and here I was thinking I wouldn’t lecture you. But there it is. My wisdom. Free of charge."
She floated downward, gaze level with his.
"I’ll ask you just once more, Little Paradox..."
Her voice curled with velvet finality.
"There is a meal in front of you. Will you eat it?"
HUUM!
—
Far from the Paradoxical Prison.
Within the heart of the Infiniverse, nestled deep inside the True Frequency of Genesis, there existed a secluded blue realm- a realm seemingly insignificant amid the grand workings of creation.
Yet here, beneath a sky brushed with soft azure hues and drifting streaks of golden clouds, tranquility reigned.
The land was humble and blessed. Rolling hills clothed in verdant, radiant vegetation spread in every direction, pulsing faintly with the rhythm of Spiritual Herbs that glowed with emerald and amber hues.
It was a realm free from the usual chaos of war, power, and complexity. A place designed for silence. For peace.
On it...
A simple wooden table stood before a modest farmhouse.
Nearby, a chicken coop clucked quietly with life. Birds sang, and the winds carried the scent of lavender, herbs, and spring rain.
Seated at that table, in a black robe trimmed with faint gold, was Noah.
Or at least, one of his selves.
His gaze stretched out over the open field, eyes sharp and bright, his fingers resting lightly on the wood.
The wind tugged gently at his hair that did not seem set on exactly what color it wanted to be, and his golden eyes seemed to flicker with layered thought.
Behind him, within the shade of the farmhouse, a stove crackled quietly as something boiled.
A woman stood there. Graceful. Her long hair shone in threads of blue and gold, cascading over her shoulders like strands of moonlight.
Her white dress shimmered with faint runes of protection and memory, hugging her figure in a way that declared both nobility and warmth.
This was Amelia Osmont. His mother.
She glanced toward him, her eyes gleaming with that ageless understanding only a mother could possess.
"This is the first time you’ve asked me to make something I haven’t cooked in what feels like decades," she said with a smile that held more weight than it appeared. "Is something on your mind?"
"Not...a whole lot," Noah said quietly, looking out over the hills of Spiritual Herbs.
His mother nodded as if she already knew. She stepped outside moments later, two floating plates trailing behind her.
The plates set down themselves on the table with subtle grace. White rice, perfectly fluffed, with radiant, clear chicken soup poured delicately over it- filled with tender vegetables and glistening herbs that exhaled nostalgic steam.
Two glasses of water floated into place beside them.
Noah blinked.
He hadn’t had this dish in what felt like thousands of years!
When he was young, money was tight. They couldn’t afford takeout or restaurants. On nights when they wanted something healthy, something warm, Amelia always made rice and chicken soup. It was simple, humble.
But to him, even in the face of meats from Phoenixes and Draconic Titans, it remained the best thing he had ever tasted.
He took a bite. The golden spoon glinted in the fading sunlight as he brought it to his lips.
And....
An explosion of senses unfolded.
The taste dragged him back across time, into the apartment of his youth, the warmth of home, the sound of his mother humming in the kitchen.
He let the silence linger before he finally said, "I always have a lot on my mind. But this time, it feels like I’m approaching a precipice of existence. I attained a level of power that birthed my own Sources...but they’re influencing me deeply. I’ve...always carried a sense of tyranny, for example, but now, it feels amplified a hundred times."
He took another bite.
"I’ve never been cruel, never detached. But now, I’m beginning to look at existences as pieces on a board. Strategies. Threads to pull or cut. I still feel like myself...and yet, I don’t."
Amelia, seated across from him now, chewed slowly as she studied him.
Then she set her spoon down gently.
"I still see the same Noah. The boy I raised. The man I watched grow."
Her eyes glowed softly.
"Do you...know why I named you Noah?"
Noah blinked. He shook his head.
She smiled as she replied.
"Because during that time, everything was hard. Your father was absent. When he found out I was pregnant, he spiraled. Silence. Drinking. Rage. He left me with nothing but myself and the life growing inside of me."
...!
She looked to the side, her voice drifting into remembrance.
"I’d come home from work with aching feet, a sore back. No light, no support, no money. But I would sit in the dark, rub my belly, and speak to you. And I found peace."
She looked back at him.
"You were my...comfort. My refuge. That’s what your name means. That’s what you were."
HUUM!
The words sank deep as his eyes buzzed!
She smiled.
"You were my refuge. But you can choose what you want to be for others- for yourself. To me, you haven’t changed. You are still my Noah."
Noah looked down at his spoon.
Rice. Chicken. Vegetables.
Memories.
He smiled faintly at the sight of it all.
This...he wanted to preserve and protect no matter the cost!