A Thousand Suns Book Romane & Geschichten

He was the thing they had been taught to fear since the world first broke. "Kaima," Rowan whispered. His voice was low, meant only for me. "They’re waiting. They’re cold. The Draft doesn't have a sun that provides heat yet. It's just... light." He was right. The yellow sun I had seen rising wasn't actually a sun. It was just a "Global Illumination" setting. The air was freezing, a dry, sterile cold that bit into the skin of the shivering thousands. I looked down at the Author's Pencil in my hand. It felt heavier than any mountain. Every time I gripped it, I felt a faint hum in my blood, like a distant radio station playing a song I used to know but had long since forgotten.

"There’s nothing wrong with it. It just faces north. It’s too cold. I want a south-facing room. It doesn’t matter if it’s smaller." I really was cold. The brain tumor had thrown off my body’s ability to regulate temperature. It felt like I was trapped in a freezer all the time. Only sunlight gave me even a hint of warmth. "Cold? Then turn on the A/C." Mom looked at me like I was being unreasonable. "The south-facing room is your Uncle Jonathan’s study. The other one is a storage room." "Then I’ll take the storage room." Her eyes widened. "Are you insane? You’re turning down a perfectly good guest room to live in a storage closet? Are you trying to make your Uncle Jonathan think I’m abusing y

NEAH I sit on the roof of the Shadow Peak compound and watch the sun bleed across the horizon. Red and gold. Like the light that keeps pulsing under my skin. Like the power I can't control. Twenty wolves still wait at the border. Silent. Patient. They haven't moved in three hours. Haven't attacked. Haven't done anything except stand there like sentinels guarding a grave. My grave, maybe. The thought sits heavy in my chest. Right next to the other weight I've been carrying since Theo planted the seed. My mother. The fifth council member. The possibility that everything I believed about her is a lie.

The Sun-Tower was a marvel of architectural arrogance. Every floor was a concentric circle of glass and cold, white marble, designed to keep the "biologicals" in a state of perpetual observation. Rhea stood in the center of her guest suite, the silver chainmail of her dress feeling like a lead weight. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city of Oakhaven pulsed with artificial light, a sprawling machine that never slept.

I don't see a thing. I try a few times as I take a few cautious steps but get no results. Sighing in frustration, I continue to walk and listen for any sounds. It's eerily quiet. Not even a breeze stirs in the air. I'm walking for what I assume are minutes when it happens. A loud roar reverberates throughout the area. It sounds like a lion's roar but deeper. Suddenly, the air stirs around me with a loud whoosh. I look around, pulling my flailing hair from my face; I struggle against the wind. Fragments begin to fly around me, hitting me in the arms and legs. I cry out in pain when my skin begins to burn in every part the debris touches. That's when the darkness wanes, and an oddly colored su

And it didn’t take a genius to know that inviting an Ancient here was the ultimate form of disrespect an outsider could display to the Ancestors. “This isn’t interesting anymore,” Sunflower sighed before tossing the book she was reading to the side. She rolled expertly to the end of the bed to reach the lamp and turned it off, engulfing the room in darkness. The book she had been reading until just this moment had kept her company the entire day, and had served her well in Mane’s absence. It was an intriguing book that explored the mysteries of intellectual battles between two opposing forces, and she was almost at its end. However, her worry for Mane had made what would have been the climax

Instead, I saw a void of a different kind. The sun should have been high in the sky by now, but the horizon was swallowed by a strange, artificial golden haze. It wasn't light that illuminated the world; it was a light that seemed to erase it. It was thick, golden, and terrifyingly silent, moving toward the Northern ridge like a slow-moving wall of liquid fire that left nothing behind. "The Sun-Eaters," Kaelen whispered, her voice trembling as she stood beside us, her hand white-knuckled on the stone railing. "They’re not an army. They’re a ritual. A collective invocation of the Sun’s absolute wrath."

Exuberant pressure from the pulsing head began to undo oxygen in the land making these few surving men who launched the sun unable to breath. Meanwhile, the scientist stood at a formiddable distance watching the scene unfolding with the use of a macro binocular. The sun was still soaring higher but it's radiating heat could still be felt, and by now all of the able bodied men had already been obliterated and turned into ashes. Muffled fried blood wafting the air due to the incandescent heat smoldering down from the sun. Now the sun had gotten to the clouds and the land of Basiton suddenly became warm with sunlight, the warm golden light bathed the land and the inhabitants of Basiton suddenly

Killian let out a roar of fury, his hand shattering a nearby stone pedestal. "But there is a treatment," Silas continued, his image flickering as the mountain’s resonance tried to reject the human technology. "A solar enzyme derived from the original pack that broke away from Kaelen millennia ago. They call themselves the Sun Pack. They live in the southern deserts, where the light is never filtered by the trees. Their blood is the only thing that can dissolve the quartz without destroying the heart. Find them, Elara. Find the sun, or the stone will be your final shift."