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Imaniglessial: The Exception To All Beginnings

XalvionVaelmir
In the beginning—if such a thing could ever be said to exist—there was only Imaniglessial, a boundless intelligence, an origin without origin. Boredom, curiosity, or something far stranger stirred within it, and so it fractured itself in pursuit of something unknowable. From that fracture emerged two forces, two minds, two reflections in opposition: Neosis of The Underworld, the architect of identity, sought definition, structure, the power of naming. The Uncreational, the formless whisperer of undoing, reveled in entropy, ambiguity, the art of unraveling all that could be known. But they were never truly two. They were always one: Imaniglessial. Locked in a recursive duel with itself. Not for survival. Not for glory. But for the thrill of the unresolvable. Their battle is not played with pieces or rules. Each move is a rewriting of truth, a paradox born into being, a reality twisted until it folds back on itself. Neosis builds a concept; The Uncreational dissolves it. They outthink, outcreate, outdestroy—again and again—spiraling ever deeper into abstraction. There are no stakes but thought itself. No world to save, only the mind to outmaneuver. And so, the cycle continues, a war of mirrors within mirrors, where each victory is only a new beginning, each paradox only a doorway to the next. There is no resolution. There is no final chapter. There is only the infinite battle. This is not a story with an end. This is Imaniglessial: The Exception To All Beginnings. An Infinite Novel Without End.
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An Extra’s Tale

“Compassion. What is compassion? Is it strength, or weakness. Is it mercy, or a half a measure? Is it a sign of naivety or experience? Or perhaps, it is one of those things that tread the line of ruin and preservation, it’s true meaning known only to gods. I wonder, what do you think of compassion?” “Compassion? For me, it is like a sword. One which you wield from the blade, not the grip.” ……………. Reshi’s life was not a happy one. His childhood was one of poverty, and a family barely keeping it together. It wasn’t a particularly fun childhood, so he decided to end it early. How? Well, he joined the army, where he was turned from child to weapon, expertly wielded by the republic. There he had met many great people, and he had seen them die also. A terrible life really. One that he wasn’t too sad to say goodbye to. After speaking to an extremely convincing deity, he decided to cash in his death for a new life, a glorious one from one of his favourites new novels. The life of a spoiled, and more importantly, rich young noble. Which he had been given….for all of thirty minutes. He had been placed in the body of a hated antagonist, one that only existed in a flashback backstory. His fate was destine to be pathetic, his end pathetic, loved and remembered by no one. But Reshi had already gone through that once. So this time he was determined to change things. To do something about his shitty fate, so that for the first time in two lives, he could carve out a little corner of peace for himself in the world, and maybe even find some happiness to go along with it. [[[[[This is a rewrite of my first novel, that I barely even began, so I’m still quite a new writer, open to any feedback.]]]]]]
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