All Chapters of The Rejected Blood Moon : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The Girl Who Heard the UniverseAetherion shimmered beneath an eternal dawn.The skies were not blue or gold, but a living blend of both—a veil of moving light that breathed in rhythm with the Heart Remembered beneath its seas. The air hummed softly with the pulse of creation itself.Here, life was young again. The land glowed with energy, trees sang faint melodies in the wind, and rivers whispered forgotten words from the time before time.The Heart’s dream had settled into form.And within that dream, a child was born.---The Birth Under the BreathShe came into the world as the Heart pulsed three times in harmony—thrum, pause, thrum. The midwives said the sky brightened with every beat, and the air grew warm, alive.Her mother named her Ereya, meaning “the one who listens.”Ereya did not cry.She only opened her eyes, and the room filled with a quiet vibration, like the earth itself was welcoming her.From that day forward, wherever she went, sound moved differently.The songs of

The Dreamers of DualityThe universe awoke gently.Not in light, nor in darkness—but in a soft hum, a vibration woven from both.It was not a beginning nor an ending.It was a remembering.Across infinite horizons, new worlds emerged like dew on the fabric of eternity—each breathing, each dreaming, each carrying within it a fragment of Ereya’s choice.Sound and silence now existed not as forces apart, but as partners intertwined.And from that divine union came the next evolution of creation—The Dreamers of Duality.---The Birth of the DreamersThey were born on worlds scattered across the cosmos—some beneath oceans of light, others under skies made of memory.Each Dreamer opened their eyes and remembered two lives at once:the one they were living, and the one they had yet to live.In their minds, past and future flowed together like rivers meeting at the sea.They were not gods. They were not mortals.They were bridges.And with every breath, they shaped reality through awareness

The Fallen DreamerDarkness spread softly across the edges of eternity.Not as destruction—but as awakening.The once-unified song of the cosmos now existed as countless melodies, each world thrumming to its own imperfect rhythm.Some fast, some slow, some silent, some wild.It was chaos.And it was beautiful.In the broken symmetry of the Living Heart, something new was being born.And at the center of that newborn uncertainty, a voice stirred—familiar, fierce, and alive.---The Birth of a MythIn a realm made of fractured starlight, the people of Kareth whispered tales of a god who had fallen for their freedom.They called him Sareth the Unbound.His image was carved into the spires of their cities—half of light, half of shadow. His eyes were said to hold both creation and destruction within them, his voice the echo that could birth suns or end them.The Karethians did not worship him out of fear.They thanked him.Because of his defiance, their world pulsed differently. It was not

The Forgotten ShadowThe newborn Heart slept peacefully at the center of the cosmos, its faint pulse spreading like ripples through eternity.Lunara stood beside it—guardian, teacher, and witness.Her light shimmered between dusk and dawn, her gaze full of quiet wonder.For the first time since creation began, there was no conflict, no rhythm to obey.Only the steady breath of becoming.Yet even freedom carries its own shadow.And in the depths beyond stars, where no memory dared linger, something ancient began to move.---The Murmur Beneath the HeartIt started as a tremor—small, almost imperceptible.The Heart stirred slightly in its sleep, and Lunara felt it.A vibration that wasn’t part of its rhythm.“Strange,” she murmured, placing a hand on its glowing surface. “You shouldn’t dream yet.”But the pulse beneath her palm faltered, then deepened.A second rhythm—out of tune—thudded faintly from within.> thrum … thrum … thrum …A memory awakened—something she had never felt but so

World Without LoveThe universe shimmered with the music of becoming.Every pulse, every silence, every spark of existence sang in its own rhythm—together yet apart.And from within this vast harmony, Nareth watched.He was born of fire and shadow, molded from the Forgotten, shaped by desire.Where Lunara’s light softened creation, Nareth’s essence burned to understand it.He did not hate her; he simply could not be her.He looked upon the countless worlds she and the Heart had made—worlds of compassion, curiosity, and choice—and a single question filled his being like a wound that refused to heal.> If love gives them meaning… what are they without it?---The First Spark of DefianceOn the edge of the cosmos, where creation thinned into void, Nareth extended his hand.Flame gathered in his palm—not of light, not of life, but of raw potential untempered by emotion.He breathed into it, whispering,> “Let there be existence… without attachment.”The flame quivered, then solidified int