Lahat ng Kabanata ng The White Wolf Luna: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

The wind had gone still.For the first time in days, maybe longer, the Hollowborn had stopped moving. Their forms, once twitching and restless, now lay scattered across the cracked earth like forgotten relics, silent, brittle, and already beginning to fade.Rowan didn’t move.He stood in the center of what remained of the rift, his boots inches from the space where Selene had vanished. Not even a scorch mark lingered to prove she had ever been there, only the low, rhythmic hum of leyline energy slowly realigning itself beneath his feet. It didn’t bring comfort. It didn’t feel like healing. It felt like grief with a pulse.Aelira crouched nearby, her hands clutched around her middle as if trying to keep herself from collapsing inward. Her breathing came in uneven shudders, and though the magic still danced faintly at her fingertips, it flickered like a candle nearly spent.“She was here,” Aelira whispered. “I felt her until the last second. And now…”Rowan looked at her but didn’t spea

The light was not warm. It was sharp, like the edge of a blade pressed against the soul, cutting away the weight of the world they’d known. Rowan felt it first a sensation of falling without moving, of being stretched thin across a void that wasn’t empty but alive, thrumming with voices too numerous to name. Aelira’s hand gripped his, her fingers trembling but unyielding, and Agnes’s breath came in short, ragged gasps beside them. The pendant, still clutched in Agnes’s hand, burned with a radiance that seemed to pulse in time with their heartbeats.And then, the light receded.They stood—or floated, it was hard to tell—in a place that defied form. The ground beneath them was not earth but a shifting mosaic of silver and crimson threads, weaving and unweaving like a tapestry caught in a storm. Above, there was no sky, only a vast expanse of fractured mirrors, each reflecting a different moment, a different choice. Rowan saw himself in one, older, scarred, standing alone on a battlefiel

The Veil was no longer a bridge, it was a battlefield. The silver threads that had once held it together now frayed at the edges, snapping under the weight of the relentless drumbeat that shook the air. Each pulse was a wound, a reminder that the seam they’d closed was only the first tear in a tapestry unraveling faster than they could mend. The crimson light was gone, but something darker deeper replaced it, a void-black pulse that seemed to drink the light from Selene’s eyes, Elyra’s scars, and the pendant still glowing in Agnes’s hands.Rowan stood at the forefront, his blade a beacon of silver against the encroaching dark. Selene and Elyra flanked him, their combined presence of moonlight and shadow stabilizing the trembling threads, but only just. Aelira’s magic wove through theirs, a net of moonlight holding back the chaos, while Agnes’s chant grew hoarse, her voice fraying like the Veil itself. The drumbeat wasn’t just sound it was intent, a will that pressed against their mind

The light didn’t fade, it burned, searing through the crucible of creation, through the endless expanse of thought and will. The golden thread was gone, snapped by their collective defiance, but its echo lingered in their veins, a pulse that matched the drumbeat now roaring within them. Rowan, Aelira, Agnes, Selene, and Elyra stood in a circle, their magics intertwined, their breaths synchronized, as the world around them reshaped itself. The ground was no longer thought but stone, jagged and warm, as if forged in the heart of a star. The sky was no longer will but a storm of gold and shadow, swirling with faces every choice they’d made, every life they’d touched, every world they’d refused to let die.The figure was gone, but its words remained: The unmaking is you, when you falter. And now, the drumbeat was no longer a threat from beyond it was their own hearts, their own doubts, their own choices echoing back. The crucible wasn’t just a place; it was a mirror, forcing them to fac

The world hummed with Agnes’s sacrifice, its golden light now steady but threaded with a quiet sorrow. The horizon glowed, a promise of stability, yet the whisper’s echo lingered, a faint pulse beneath the song of their hearts, reminding them that their victory was not absolute. The ground beneath Rowan, Aelira, Selene, and Elyra was solid, its stone warm with the life they’d fought to preserve, but it felt incomplete without Agnes’s steady presence. The air carried her essence, her wisdom woven into the breeze, her resolve in the earth but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache of her absence.Rowan stood at the edge of the new world’s first hill, his blade sheathed but his hand never far from its hilt. His eyes scanned the horizon, where the gold light met a faint shimmer of shadow—not the unmaking, not the Keeper, but something new, something that knew their names and waited with infinite patience. “She gave everything for this,” he said, his voice low, rough with grief. “We won't let