Semua Bab Luna’s Rebellion : Bab 201 - Bab 210

Elara The world holds its breath. Or maybe that’s just me. Kael’s voice is a wound in the silence, raw and splintered. “Elara. Don’t do this.” His power is everywhere—writhing shadows, iron and grief, the desperate echo of an oath forged in a time when everything felt simple. A time when I thought chains could feel like love if you called them something softer. And across from him—the god. The Primordial. It watches me with a thousand eyes, each one promising something different. Power. Freedom. The obliteration of every scar carved into my soul. Choose, little flame, it whispers, voice curling like smoke around my thoughts. Unmake your leash. Burn the cage. Be what you were meant to be. And gods—gods help me—I want it. I want the silence after centuries of screaming. I want the weight of power, not as a shackle but as wings. I want to stop bleeding for everyone else. But then I hear Kael’s breath—ragged, breaking. “Elara,” he says again, softer this time. Not a command. No

Elara The crack in the sky groans wider, bleeding colors that should never exist. Hues that taste like iron on my tongue and scrape like glass along my nerves. Kael and I stare into the wound above us as if it might blink. It doesn’t. It breathes—a slow, cavernous pull that drags the air from my lungs and the warmth from my bones. And then it laughs. Not a sound, not exactly. A shiver of meaning curling through marrow. A jagged promise of pain that makes the ground quake beneath our feet. You thought it was that easy, little flame? You thought storms kill gods? The voice slithers into my skull, velvet and venom, and my hands curl into fists hard enough to draw blood. Gold fire licks up my arms like a lover desperate to hold me, but for the first time since I burned the leash, the flame feels… small. Not gone. Never gone. But fragile against what’s stirring in the fracture. Kael’s breathing stutters beside me, ragged and shallow. He’s swaying on his feet, shadows dragging like

Elara The glass hums beneath my feet. Not just hums—sings. Like a string plucked by a hand I can’t see, vibrating through the marrow of the world. Each note ripples down the endless bridge, through my bones, into the burning sky where two suns hang like warring gods. One gold. One silver. Both bleeding light into a horizon that doesn’t end. I don’t know if it’s dawn or dusk. I don’t even know if time works here. Everything feels… suspended. Weightless. Like breath held too long. And then the voice speaks again. “You’ve broken the world, little star.” It’s not thunder. Not ice. It’s worse—stillness. The kind that coils in the gut like something vast crouching in the dark, watching. I turn. The glass ripples as if the act of looking bends it. And there—at the far curve of the bridge—a figure waits. Cloaked in a veil of night that bleeds into the nothing around us. No face. No body. Just… presence. Tall as a spire. Sharp as a scream. And when it moves—when it ti

Elara The darkness is not silent. It breathes. Slow and deep, like something vast curled around us in the cold. Each inhale scrapes over my skin like claws. Each exhale tastes of frost and iron. Kael moves through it like a shadow that learned to walk upright, his hand still locked around mine—not gentle, not cruel, just anchored. The way chains anchor ships before storms. “Where are we?” My voice feels small. Swallowed. Like sound shouldn’t exist here. His answer is a rasp that curls heat down my spine. “Home.” Gods help me, the word doesn’t sound like comfort. It sounds like a curse. Shapes begin to emerge from the dark. A hall of bone, ribs arching into spires that vanish into a ceiling of black ice. Walls that glisten as if slick with oil, etched with runes pulsing faint silver light. The floor is frozen shadow—so dark it drinks the glow from my skin. And at the far end, the throne. Not carved. Not built. Grown—like the void itself sprouted claws and curled

Elara The bond is burning me alive. Every strike between them tears another seam open inside my chest. Every roar, every blast of light, every surge of shadow splits me down the middle until I’m nothing but raw nerve and wildfire. Kael moves like midnight unchained, his blade a living serpent of dark steel. Lucious is an inferno given wings, each swing of his radiant sword scorching holes in the hall. Their fury cracks the world—stone splintering, void yawning wide where the floor should be. And I can feel both of them. The shadows pulling, claws hooked deep in my marrow. The light burning, searing everything soft until I’m hollowed out and shining. I can’t take it. I can’t— Choose, the Veilborne whispers in the back of my skull, voice dripping honey and ash. Before they burn the world for you. “I said STOP!” The word rips out of me like thunder—no, louder than thunder. It shakes the bone pillars to dust, splinters the ceiling into a million shards of black ice. Kael freezes