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Chapter 93 – The Thing Without Origin
Last Updated:
2025-07-30 23:06:45
Latest chapter
ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN Chapter 94 – When a Story Begins to Die
Ashen's scream wasn't made of sound, It was made of fracture.Reality around her buckled as the void-lance struck her chest, sinking deep, like a nail being driven through the heart of a sentence. Her body arched in midair. Her eyes went wide, violet light spilling from them in flickering bursts, then stillness.Liora’s breath caught, For one second, the world held her between moments, between words, And then it shattered, Ashen fell like an unfinished thought, Not graceful, Not tragic, Just broken.She hit the ground hard, her small frame cracking the earth beneath her. The crown, the Hollow Crown, tumbled from her head, rolling once, then stopping at Liora’s feet. Liora didn’t move.Couldn’t, Because the air around Ashen was… undoing, Grass unraveled into linework. Stones became outlines. The soil beneath her burned white-hot, like the world wasn’t erasing her, it was rejecting her.The girl convulsed, breath stuttering, Her ink-blood seeped from the wound and spilled into glyphs on
ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN Chapter 93 – The Thing Without Origin
The world didn’t break like glass It broke like parchment, Thin, dry, brittle with age, and laced with too many stories.The tear ripped sideways across reality, stretching from the edge of the dream-forest to the farthest curve of the sky. Where once there were stars and logic, now there was voidstuff a swirling abyss made of shadows that forgot what they were supposed to be.And from that jagged rip in the world, It stepped through, Not walking, Not gliding Just existing suddenly there, suddenly everywhere.The figures that had once surrounded Liora, the unfinished, half-born characters from her discarded stories backed away, Even Ashen, Especially Ashen.The girl took two steps back and lowered her eyes. “I didn’t call it,” she whispered.The void shifted in response, and Liora felt it like ice under her skin. Not cold. Just wrong, A presence unanchored to name or memory, Not something Liora had written, Not something the Quill had controlled.Not something the gods had ever record
ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN Chapter 92 – The Girl Made of Stories
The air around Ashen vibrated with quiet defiance. The little girl stood in a circle of burned grass and pulsing light, a blank page clutched in one soot-smudged hand, a jagged shard of obsidian in the other.Her eyes those haunting, too-old eyes, were watching Liora as if she was still being written, still being judged, Liora hadn’t expected the past to wear such a small face.She crouched in front of Ashen, not out of fear, but out of instinct. The air shimmered around the girl, warping reality in subtle flickers, rocks shifted slightly, as if caught between what they were and what they might become. Liora could feel it in her spine: Ashen didn’t belong to this world. Not fully. Not yet.“You remember me,” Ashen said softly.Liora nodded. “I do.”“You buried me.”“I did.”Ashen tilted her head. “Why?”Liora stared at the page in the girl's hand. A small drop of ink trickled from its corner like blood from a paper cut. “Because the story I gave you was too painful to finish. I wasn’t
ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN Chapter 91 – The Stories That Refused to Die
The First Quill was dead, But the void it left behind was not empty It pulsed with potential, A womb of forgotten tales, And from that space, the stories that had once been denied a page began to crawl into reality.Nightwind bloomed with color real color Skies shifted with emotion, Rain fell not because of weather, but because of memory, For the first time in centuries, the realm was unwritten, Which meant it was finally free, But freedom, Liora was learning, was not the same as peace.Sera sat at the high balcony, watching stars blink into strange new constellations, None of them matched the ones they grew up with. “They’re naming themselves,” Aria said, arriving with a scroll of quivering ink.“What does that mean?” Sera asked.Aria’s voice was low. “It means the stories that were once erased… are returning. With no author to contain them.”She looked toward the horizon, where a forest shimmered every tree whispering a different ending. “Not all of them want to be told.”The Inkbla
ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN Chapter 90 – The Strike Against Silence
The First Quill hovered in the air like a blade waiting for judgment, It was massive now towering, shimmering with threads of gold ink and raw fate. Its tip moved constantly, drawing lines through space itself, scripting new realities with every stroke.And at its center, Liora. A single name, floating midair, Trembling, Ready to be crossed out, She took one step forward.The Inkblade in her hand shivered, not in fear, but in tension like it recognized its parent, like it wanted to be used, Her breath came hard, The tower around her cracked under the weight of too many unwritten choices.And then the voice returned. “You are not real.”“You were a deviation. A contradiction.”“An accident.”She raised her blade. “I am what came after the accident.”The Quill lunged, Its massive tip dragged through the air like a comet of deletion, slicing toward her, screaming with wind and will.Liora dove rolled and slashed, Her blade collided with the Quill, And the world shuddered, The impact crea
ASHES OF THE LUNA QUEEN Chapter 89 – The Blade That Bleeds Memory
When dawn came, it wasn’t light that split the horizon. It was a line of text: “The Queen stood alone. But not for long.”Liora looked up and saw her enemies, Not soldiers, Not gods.Thousands of them.Blank-faced beings formed from parchment, crawling over the cliffs, silent and hungry, Each bore a sigil carved into its chest: Chapter 0.The first reached the Citadel’s walls, Touched stone And it vanished, No flame, No crumble, Just gone, as if it had never existed, Sera tried to summon a ward, It sparked then fizzled.Because magic that wasn’t part of the story no longer worked, Auren roared and charged, sword raised, he cut one page in half And both halves rewrote themselves in seconds.Liora leapt from the tower, landing with a shockwave of ink and flame, The Inkblade sang in her grip, She sliced through one of the blank-beings, And it bled memories. Not hers, Not the realm’s. Someone else’s.A man kissing his wife goodbye, A child writing their first poem, A girl choosing to live
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