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Chapter 75: The Queen’s Guard
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2026-01-17 09:04:50The descent of the Moon Goddess was not a physical movement; it was a gravitational collapse. The atmospheric pressure in the Blackwood courtyard increased ten-fold, making the wolves’ bones groan and their inner wolves howl in primal terror. The bone-white hand of the Goddess—miles long and translucent as ice—loomed over the keep, casting a permanent, silver shadow over the Silver Peaks.
"Kaelen!" Lyra shrieked, her shadow-wings unfurling in a burst of white-and-violet light. She di
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Hiding His Heir: The Rejected Luna’s Return Chapter 215: The Author's Rebellion
The appearance of the "Curator Prime"—the massive, obsidian hand descending from the black sun—turned the "Total Deletion" into a "Recycling Event." The Architects were no longer interested in Isabella’s personal vengeance; they were here to "Salvage the Raw Materials" of the North before the system crashed.Silas Blackwood was pinned against the unravelling stone of the ramparts, his throat gripped by Isabella’s "Moderator Scalpels." He felt his "Biological Narrative" being pulled from his marrow, turning into a stream of silver starlight that flowed toward the obsidian hand."Lyra... Kaelen..." Silas wheezed, his stormy sea-grey eyes bright with a final, terminal clarity.Lyra Thorne was at the feet of the Curator-Hand, her transparent form looking like a charcoal sketch against the black void. She struck the hand with her obsidian blade, but the impact was absorbed by a "Transaction Barrier"—a wall of glowing gold symbols that represented the "Reader’s"
Hiding His Heir: The Rejected Luna’s Return Chapter 214: Isabella’s Error Log
The "Total Deletion of the Narrative" was a terminal atmospheric pressure. As the gold-and-sapphire sun turned black, the vibrant colors of the "Unmapped" North began to "Wash Out." It wasn't a "Bleaching" like the Architects' protocol; it was a "Liquidation." The stone walls of the keep began to dissolve into streams of blue light, and the violet lilies unwove into lines of scrolling code.Isabella stood at the center of the unravelling keep, her silver stylus moving with a rhythmic, mechanical precision. She was "Writing the End"—not just for Silas and Lyra, but for the entire concept of the North."The North is a 'Failed Expansion', Silas," Isabella said, her electric-cyan eyes reflecting the total destruction of the world. "A story that became too messy, too complex, and too expensive to maintain. The Reader wants a 'Clean Slate'. They want a new 'Purity' that doesn't require a three-year arc of suffering."Silas Blackwood stood before his former betro
Hiding His Heir: The Rejected Luna’s Return Chapter 213: The Glitch in the Ghost
The silver blade of the "System Dagger" did not draw blood when it struck Kaelen; it drew "Static." The moment the tip of the weapon made contact with the boy’s chest, the courtyard of the Blackwood Keep exploded in a flurry of grey, redacted pixels. Kaelen let out a shriek that sounded like a thousand glass bells shattering, but his body didn't fall. It "Lacked."His form began to stutter, appearing and disappearing in bursts of iridescent violet light. He was being "Over-written" by the insurrection script, but his own "Primary Admin" marrow was fighting back. He was a "Glitch in the System," a variable that could not be easily reformatted."Kaelen!" Lyra shrieked, her transparent form pulsing with a frantic, violet-gold radiance.She stood beside her son, her hands reaching into the static. She felt the sensory reality of the glitch—the way the air tasted of burnt paper and old electricity. She realized then that as ghosts, they existed in the same "Fre
Hiding His Heir: The Rejected Luna’s Return Chapter 212: Haunting the North
The sensory reality of being a ghost was a state of terminal deprivation. Silas Blackwood stood on the balcony, watching the "Genesis Legion" warriors move through the courtyard below. He could see the vibrancy of their gold-veined fur, hear the rhythmic thrumming of the violet lilies, and even see the way the wind tossed the leaves of the pine trees. But he couldn't feel the sun. He couldn't smell the damp earth. The North was a high-definition movie he was forced to watch, but he had been stripped of the right to be a spectator.Beside him, Lyra was a shimmer in the air—a silhouette of violet starlight that had no density. She was weeping, but there were no tears to stain the floor. Her sobs were nothing more than a high-frequency vibration that made the air feel slightly colder for those below."They can't see us, Silas," Lyra whispered, her voice a jagged rasp that echoed only in the "Mate Bond."The bond was the only thing that felt real. It was a thi
Hiding His Heir: The Rejected Luna’s Return Chapter 211: The Ink of Vengeance
The air in the Source Code did not vibrate with the life of the North; it hummed with the cold, sterile frequency of a server room. Silas Blackwood stood frozen, his hand still reaching for the black-and-gold door that promised safety, but his eyes were locked on the figure emerging from the blue-light logs.Isabella did not look like the woman who had been dissolved into mercury-ash. She was a masterpiece of digital perfection. Her skin was a flawless, glowing ivory, and her eyes were not the liquid gold of the vessels, but a sharp, electric cyan that flickered with a constant stream of scrolling data. She wore robes made of "Binary Silk" that trailed behind her like a comet’s tail, and in her hand, she held a silver stylus that hummed with the power of a Creator."The 'Show' is never truly over for the audience, Silas," Isabella said, her voice a harmonious, synthesized melody that carried no human warmth. "The Architects simply realized that the 'Beta' version o
Hiding His Heir: The Rejected Luna’s Return Chapter 210: Market Crash
The "Review Bomb" was a terminal atmospheric pressure. As the "Gallery" underwent a "Total Liquidation," the world of the North was no longer being "Unmapped"; it was being "Bankrupted." In the world of the Architects, a "One-Star Rating" was the equivalent of a "Death Sentence." The "Sovereign Exhibit" was being "Recycled" into raw materials to pay for the "Subscribers'" lost time.Silas and Lyra were falling through a vacuum of "Cancelled Potential." The "Curator’s Showroom" was now nothing more than a series of flickering grey rectangles in a void of "Negative Equity." Silas clutched Lyra’s marble-form against his chest, his gold-and-sapphire skin providing the only "High-Fidelity" light in the darkness."They're 'Deleting' the North, Silas!" Lyra’s voice rang out through the bond, finally regaining its biological warmth as the "Market Interface" above her head unwove. Her skin was turning from marble back to flesh, but she was still scentless, her "Context" bei
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