Todos los capítulos de Replaced by His First Love: Capítulo 331 - Capítulo 340

The bone-white claw didn’t touch my son’s face. It stopped a hair’s breadth from his skin, mapping the geometry of his gold-rimmed irises with a high-frequency scan that turned the air into a shimmering wall of silver-gray static. Through the silver-mercury conduits in my own stone feet, I felt the boy’s heart stop, then kick into a frantic, syncopated gallop.Leo didn’t recoil. He stood in the shadow of the Collector, the soot on his forehead glistening with the sweat of a King who had run out of miracles. He looked at the sky through the unravelling arches of the Golden Basalt dome. The bruised purple fog was being sucked upward, a vacuum pulling the very history out of the valley.[RESANT LIQUIDATION: 92%][SHIELD INTEGRITY: TERMINAL]The Admin’s waveform on the monitor didn’t just flicker; it shrieked. Kael’s silhouette, now a jagged mess of necrotic purple and silver-gray pixels, slammed against the gla

The rhythmic, wet sound of stone grinding against stone—*ga-chi, ga-chi*—subsided into a crushing, airless silence. Leo’s fingers, once small and capable of fisting into the silk of my blazer, were now rigid spikes of gold-veined obsidian. They remained frozen mere inches from my own quartz hand, reaching for an anchor that had already become the bedrock.He didn’t pull back. He couldn't. The Planetary Slaving protocol had moved with the speed of a landslide, racing up his calves, swallowing his knees, and locking his hips into the very ley-lines of the Northern range. He sat on the lower step of the dais, a miniature monument of sovereign resolve, his sapphire-gold eyes staring unblinking at the heavy silver doors.I felt him through the silver-mercury conduits. His weight wasn't just a child’s body anymore; it was a tectonic pressure. He had become the city’s secondary stabilizer, a sacrifice of motion to keep our people from being

The bone-white claw didn’t just descend; it carved through the remaining air, a high-frequency scream of vitrified bone meeting the static-heavy atmosphere. I felt the vibration through my basalt feet, a rhythmic jarring that threatened to rattle my Moonstone heart out of its copper cage. Leo’s fingers were no longer soft; they were jagged ridges of Moonstone, his small hand frozen mid-reach toward my face.I was ninety-nine percent stone, a geological anchor slaved to the planet’s iron core, yet the one percent of me that still knew how to bleed felt the air turn into a pressurized soup of ozone and grief. My son was becoming a statue to hold up a world that had already decided he was a calculation error. I tried to lunge, to break the slaving protocol, but the stone in my neck ground with a dry, mineral finality. Ga-chi. I was the foundation, and the foundation was silent.Deep beneath the floorboards, within the silver-mercury nervous system of the city, Kael wasn't watching the Ha

The bone-white claw of the Collector vessel didn’t snap my son’s fingers. It skidded across them with a sound like a diamond dragging over a frozen pond. The Moonstone glass wasn’t a fragile ornament anymore; it was an extension of the planet’s crust. Leo’s hand, now a rigid branch of gold-veined quartz, didn't recoil. It couldn't. He was slaved to the Iron Core, a second anchor driven into the heart of the world to keep Rebirth City from drifting into the lunar vacuum.But as the gravity stabilized and the Collector’s pull faltered, a new kind of silence hit the Grand Hall. It wasn't the silence of peace. It was the silence of a thermal blackout.I sat on my throne, a hundred percent stone, watching through the silver-mercury conduits that lacing the floorboards. To maintain the planetary slaving—to keep the Golden Basalt dome rigid against the crushing pressure of space—my internal reactor needed more than ley-line magm

My fingers didn't just stop; they fused with the cooling air, the Moonstone glass spreading from my son’s palm to my own wrist in a single, terminal heartbeat. I watched the gold veins beneath his skin harden, turning his small, reaching hand into a permanent, unyielding gesture of desperate love. The sound was a sharp, crystalline snap that bypassed my ears and buried itself in my marrow.Ga-chi.The petrification of the King was no longer a threat. It was a completed transaction.Above us, the sky shrieked as the Collector vessel lowered a secondary structure—a needle-thin spire of white quartz that looked like a jagged tooth aimed at the city’s heart. The Gravity-Siphon. I felt the atmospheric pressure in the Grand Hall shift violently, the oxygen being sucked toward the open ceiling in a rhythmic, invisible tide.Massive slabs of basalt began to drift. Rusted iron crates from the lower sectors floated past the viewports, spinning in the vacuum created by the Watcher’s tower. Even