Act Of Oblivion Novels & Stories

A terrifying aura surged out as Wilbur activated his domain. He raised the halberd high above his head, shouting, "Dawn of Twelve Chapters: Dirge of Despair: Dark Conflagration of the Abyss!" Terrifying spiritual flames shot into the air as a sense of overwhelming hopelessness and loneliness overtook everyone. A thick, black cloud rose above the ocean, forming a gigantic whirlpool that began to spin. Wilbur, Atrus, and the sixty Sanctuary cultivators began losing their spiritual energy.

incinerated by the fact that the Human Heart is Un-Writeable. We stood in the center of the "Sovereign Glitch," our breath coming in short, ragged gasps of hot, copper-heavy air. The One-Hundred-and-Forty-Fourth Layer was no longer a cathedral; it was a Void of Pure, Un-Written Potential, where every shadow was a new choice and every drop of blood was a new ocean.

"Yes, my love. We get to sleep. No more 'Silver Heir.' No more 'Vane Inheritance.' Just us. In the quiet." ​The Great Deconstruction ​Nora pressed the obsidian tip harder against her heart. ​A shockwave of absolute blackness rippled outward. It wasn't an explosion of light, but an Implosion of Context. ​The "Forgotten" army in the doorway began to unravel first. Their blurred faces didn't scream; they simply sighed as their "Residual Energy" was reclaimed by the void. The red-ink vortex on the floor didn't just stop—it vanished, leaving the marble floor not white, but a terrifying, un-rendered Transparency.

“But if no one ascends” The Devourer broke another chain. Reality screamed, and beneath creation itself Oblivion began rising. The First Queen looked directly at Kael and me while the Twin Thrones descended behind her like destiny itself. Then softly, with tears shining in her eyes, She whispered, “Do not repeat my mistake.”

I wasn’t sure yet, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down. The thought of ‘Cain The Devil’ made my blood boil, memories of the things I’d survived flooding my mind. That name wasn't just a title—it was a legacy of suffering. The stories were true. Cain had been a ruthless monster, even by our kind’s standards. His methods of torture were beyond anything anyone could imagine—he was a sick, twisted man who enjoyed nothing more than seeing others suffer. He had impaled us—our kind—on sharpened stakes, hung us from the rafters like worthless pieces of meat, and let us squirm, watching in delight as we gasped for breath, feeling the life slowly slip away.

There were so many emotions mixed together that she couldn't even tell if it was anger, regret, or just wanting to let go of everything for some peace. One thing was certain though—the Netherrealm could wipe away memories from past lives as long as they took a sip of the Oblivion Draught and crossed Severance Bridge. No matter how intense the feelings from a previous life were—love, hate, whatever—they would all get erased. Never to be remembered again. Vexon could see all of this because the Mournglow River stretched out right in front of them. Under thick mist, the Severance Bridge floated in the water.

All that hate is a powerful thing. My clothes were ripped, and though rumors say Oblivion is nothing but fire and brimstone, there was no heat in this cave of a dungeon. I was sweating but freezing all at once, so the rumors were wrong. King Lou, the lord of Oblivion, caught me. I foolishly chased a demon down his hole when he tried to kill the Other I was protecting. Landing in the Kings lap, I knew I had made a foolish mistake.

The torchlight flickered violently. And then, I felt it. The abyss had opened again. *** **Omniscient Narrator** In a cavern hidden among the western cliffs, Ágata and Eloise held a forbidden relic in their hands: a black sphere, carved from living obsidian. Surrounded by ancient symbols drawn in blood, whispers rose from their lips, invoking a being that time had tried to forget. “The previous attack was just a murmur,” whispered Eloise. “Now… let them hear the roar.”

It looked as if a colossal, invisible eraser was casually dragging itself across a painting. Hovering above the atmosphere were the vanguard of the True Admins. They were not ships. They were colossal, perfectly smooth, featureless white obelisks, completely devoid of windows, engines, or weapons. They simply drifted, projecting a silent, invisible wave of "Null-Code" that reduced whatever it touched into absolute nothingness. "They're formatting the grid," Scarlett whispered, a cold chill running down her spine. This wasn't combat; this was an uninstallation. Caleb didn't look at the obelisks. His acute Lycan vision zoomed in on the Blackwood Wastes.

“Her hidden demons are contorted in spasms of agony as we speak. They twist and writhe in time with the physical spasms of her body. See her squirm and groan! That is her darker side answering to the caress of light.” All of a sudden there was a sudden stinging sensation throughout my body. Nausea from within grew overwhelmingly stronger making me gasp and groan, my eyes rolled back into my head unable to withstand the seemingly torturous sensation. Soon I felt numbness spread throughout my body but the nauseating feeling lingered. I tried to close my eyes, but someone was keeping them open. Froth danced on my lips, and my whole form shivered in faint spasms, all the fight I had in me earlie