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The Moirai

Author: Lady Darkness
last update Last Updated: 2025-02-06 09:44:08

Damon

“Misha, a little respect, please,” my father urges.

“Why? I have no reason to give them any!” she snaps.

Atropos, who is wearing a black and gold toga that accentuates her black hair and dark features, says flatly, “Because I could end you.”

Misha laughs as she fearlessly approaches Atropos and commands, “Kneel.”

Her body obeys but she's clearly bewildered,

Atropos gasps, “What? How?” She glares at Clotho.

Clotho shrugs, “I didn't create her, Atropos so stop staring daggers at me.”

Lachesis, who is wearing a white and silver toga that brings out the gold in her brown hair, asked, “Why'd you bring, Misha is it, here?”

“They didn't bring me because according to you only you can find them, not the other way around so I brought them! “ Misha yells.

Lachesis looks at me, “Damon stop jesting.”

“Don't look at me. This is all my Queen's doing,” I replied to Lachesis whom I have had the most contact with.

“So you found her?” Clotho asks.

“Yes, and my half-sister too.”

Ana waves, “Ні.”

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  • Christmas In Hell   The Wards

    Ava's POVI realized with a sickening lurch that the cloaking spells, the spiritual camouflage we'd woven, were tearing. The Maw's oppressive influence, its soul-devouring energy, was shredding them like old paper. Our presence, normally veiled, now felt stark, exposed."It's too strong," I gasped, clutching my head. The pressure was immense, a physical weight on my skull. The knowledge that we were visible, naked to whatever horrors lurked in this cosmic graveyard, added another layer of icy dread.The journey seemed to last an eternity, every microsecond a brutal assault on my senses. I could feel the Maw's ancient, abyssal gaze on us, a slow, predatory awareness shifting, focusing. We were raw nerves exposed to a cosmic storm.Then, with another gut-wrenching lurch, we were deposited onto a new surface.This time, the ground beneath my feet felt softer, yielding. I stumbled, catching myself on a massive, curved surface. My vision was still swimming, but the black and white static b

  • Christmas In Hell   God-eater

    Ava's POVDamon coughed, a dry, rattling sound. "Just enjoying the… scenic route." His eyes, usually sharp with sardonic wit, were unfocused, distant. "Reminds me of… well, of nothing. This is worse than nothing.""The energy," Misha breathed, her hand going instinctively to her stomach. The faint shimmer of her protective ward seemed to flicker, struggling against the pervasive negativity. "It's draining everything. My power… it feels… muffled. Like screaming into a pillow."I felt it too. My own demonic energy, usually a vibrant, rebellious hum, now felt subdued, heavy. The Maw was a vast, cosmic siphon, draining every spark of life, every hint of resistance. It was a place where existence itself was an act of defiance."This is the God-Eater's Maw," I stated, articulating the dread. "Justin said it right. It's where things go to die. Permanently." I swept my arm out, indicating the desolate panorama. "Stars, nebulae, deities. All of it.""And it lives up to the name," Damon whisper

  • Christmas In Hell   Maw, a First Look

    Ava’s POV"Lead the way, Anchor," Damon ground out, his voice hoarse, but his eyes, fixed on Misha, held an unyielding defiance.I rolled my eyes, a familiar muscle memory. "Someone has to. You two are too busy making out in a cosmic graveyard." I turned, my boots scraping on the obsidian platform. The gate, a swirling maelstrom of iridescent gases, shimmered with an unsettling invitation. Beyond it, I could already feel the cold, an absence more profound than any vacuum. "Hold on tight. Justin's jump-points are less 'elegant transit' and more 'cosmic blender.'"I stepped toward the shimmering veil, not bothering to look back. Damon and Misha would follow. They always did. They were the lovebirds, the world-enders, the ones who needed me to keep their feet on the ground—or at least, pointed in the right direction. As I reached the edge, the fabric of reality stretched, groaning like ancient metal. A familiar tug, a sensation of being drawn through a keyhole too small for my frame.The

  • Christmas In Hell   Closing the Gate

    I stood on the other side of the Gate, gasping, my body shaking, but my eyes clear. Misha and Ava were there, their faces etched with relief. Misha rushed forward, throwing her arms around me.“You did it,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.I returned her embrace, my strength failing, but my spirit resolute. “Barely,” I rasped. “But I’m here.”Ava looked past me into the vast, desolate space beyond. “Alright. We’re in the God-Eater’s Maw. Now what?”Misha’s POVI watched Damon step onto the shimmering path, and a piece of my soul seemed to go with him. The air, already thin and dead, felt suddenly suffocating. The connection I always felt to him—that constant, warm hum beneath my skin—was now a frayed thread, stretched taut across an impossible distance, threatening to snap.My own trial with the Sentinel had been terrifying. It had shown me a future of bitter loneliness, of raising our children with a phantom ache in my heart where Damon used to be. But this was worse. Th

  • Christmas In Hell   Whispering Gate

    The dimensional jump spat us out onto a vast, crumbling platform of obsidian, suspended in a boundless, starless void. Above us, a gargantuan, swirling vortex of iridescent gases crackled with silent, terrifying energy. The air tasted of ozone and ancient dust.“The Whispering Gate,” Misha breathed, her voice a mix of awe and trepidation. She clutched my hand, her other resting protectively on her stomach.The air itself thrummed with a low, insidious murmur—a chorus of voices, barely audible, yet everywhere. They whispered promises of forgotten power, echoes of lost loves, temptations woven from regret. It was a symphony of despair.“The chorus of lost souls,” Ava confirmed, her voice tense. She looked pale, her dark eyes wide. “And somewhere in there… the Chronos Sentinel.”My head pounded. The brief respite from the void’s relentless gnawing vanished, returning with a vengeance. The cold seized my chest, threatening to extinguish the last flicker of my hellfire. I swayed, my knees

  • Christmas In Hell   She Passed

    Damon's POVThe path glowed, then vanished. The whispers grew louder, directed at us now, twisting Misha's words, turning them into taunts. She will fail. Her love will not be enough. She will abandon you for her children. They will be alone."Block them out," Ava commanded, her voice sharp, strained. She pressed her hand against my forehead, her demonic energy, cold and stark, momentarily overriding the insidious whispers. "Focus on Misha. Focus on her strength. Don't let them break her… or you."I closed my eyes, picturing Misha's face, her determined gaze, the fierce love that burned within her. I focused on the faint hum of her creative energy, a vibration I could sense even through the encroaching void. She was fighting. I had to fight too.The void pulsed, hungry, desperate to swallow me whole. But Misha's image, her resolve, was a stubborn barrier against its relentless hunger. I clung to it, to her, to the fragile thread of hope that she embodied.Seconds stretched into an ete

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