Abyss Wars Novels & Stories

“Killian!” Silence. The air was heavy with ancient power. She could feel the realm’s pulse, slow and unnatural, as if she had fallen into the belly of the world itself. Her wolf stirred uneasily inside her mind. This isn’t the Shadow Realm anymore, it whispered. This… this is deeper. “Deeper?” Aria whispered. The Abyss. Aria’s breath caught. Legends spoke of the Abyss a realm beyond even death and shadow, a place where lost souls drifted in endless slumber. No one who entered ever returned.

Aria cried out in relief. He fluttered his eyes open weakly. “You… killed a god,” he murmured weakly. She laughed and cried at the same time. “I told you I would. And don’t ever do that to me again.” He smiled faintly. “ I can’t promise.” But that victory did not come with peace. It came with terror. Because gods did not die quietly. The Abyss King approached slowly, eyes dark with something like fear. “Fo you know that you have just declared war on the creators of this world?” he said.

“It’s the Abyss.” As they stood together, a low, guttural hum began to reverberate through the air. It was the sound of something awakening. Something that had been waiting for them. Clara gripped Marcus’s hand tightly, her pulse racing. “We destroyed it, Marcus. We destroyed the Abyss, the heart of the void. It shouldn’t be able to come back.” “Maybe we didn’t destroy all of it,” Marcus replied, his gaze flickering through the darkness as the humming grew louder, more insistent. “Maybe we only shattered its body. This could be its soul, the essence of what’s left.”

Malzareth's expression remained perfectly calm, but internally, his thoughts sharpened. ​The Abyss had existed long before his temple, before the surrounding kingdoms, and before many of the gods themselves had even been formed. The oldest records mentioning its depths were older than written history, and no one knew its true origin or what lived at the bottom. They only knew one unbreakable rule: those who entered its dark waters never returned. Long ago, powerful High Gods, adventurers, and explorers had foolishly ventured down into the dark, and within weeks, their names vanished from the sacred Record of Life. Their histories were not merely marked dead; they were completely erased from

Gods. A pair of gryphons soar overhead, their bondeds laughing as they dive through the clouds. Direwolves and their humans moving in perfect sychronizon. One particulary unimpressed frost lynx lounges across a tree branch, glaring down at everyone beneath it like they are personally offending its existence. Further in the distance, Ironclad dragons train with their bondeds, bronze scales glimmering beneath the rising sun. Terrifying, but majestic. For a few silent moments, I simply watch. Because despite all else, I still love them. I always have, even though Aetherion Academy was not supposed to be my future.

Rowan’s erasure grids fold reality—white voids swallowing tendrils. Kayo’s chains bind massive limbs—foxfire burning restraints hot. Remy’s claws rend exposed joints—gold sparks flying. My **Abyssal Canticle** sings—voice carrying divine fury, shattering debuffs, swarm screaming real. Julian’s fangs drain main veins—vampire horde climbing body like ants on titan. Kōjin’s hammer projection slams divine—molten impacts cratering carapace. Monks’ light spears pierce eyes—blinding galaxies.

Her aura slammed into the battlefield, forcing warriors and Elders alike to their knees. Seraphina’s eyes widened in true fear. “You… you weren’t supposed to return from the Abyss.” Ariana’s reply was cold, steady. “I didn’t return.” She lifted the glowing blade. “I ascended.” The ground split with power. The moon turned blood-silver. And the final war began.

Warriors seemed as if they were bewitched and transfixed as sigil swarmed their hands and bodies. They looked like they were thronged by neon ruby leeches. They started to fight amongst themselves mercilessly and kill each other. Limbs, blood and guts exploded throughout Sanguineabyss. Even Nexelex seemed to be affected by this slaughtering spree. He killed several faes and a few of his own warriors.

Amidst the vibrant tapestries of the boutique, Abigail, Liya, and Whizz embarked on a journey of selecting dresses that would mark the beginning of a new chapter in Abigail's life. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with anticipation. Abigail's eyes danced over the array of dresses that adorned the racks. Her fingers grazed the delicate fabrics, her heart racing with each new possibility. The colorful displays seemed to whisper promises of joy and celebration, a stark contrast to the darkness she had emerged from.

I looked at the vampire, withdrawing my aura, just as everyone turned to him. “I’m not sure what I felt when I saw the curse appear... How can you talk about something without being sure? I didn't want to scare anybody any more than necessary.” Khalid sighed. “Yes, the Great Old Ones do exist, so to speak. The Gods didn't come out of nowhere... Nothing came out of Nothing... What humans know as the Big Bang Theory, is in fact known as the beginning of the age of the First Ones. After that came the age of the Gods. The Age of the Humans came with the First Great Wars... That doesn't mean that the First Ones died out.”