Novel & Cerita All Quiet On The Western Front Book

He flipped the light bar off, plunging us back into the grey dimness of the storm. "You're getting good at that," he said, his breathing finally beginning to level out. "At what?" "At the 'Dirty' work," Enzo said. I looked down at the Red Ledger. My knuckles were white where I gripped the leather. I wasn't the "Boring" girl who worked for a tech startup anymore. I was the woman who had just blinded a man so her husband could ram a truck. "It says here... 'The Quiet,'" I read, squinting at the page as a neon sign from a passing liquor store illuminated the text. "What is 'The Quiet'?"

The soft groan of wood rang out in the quiet bookstore as Lena turned over the last sign on the door: **CLOSED**. Outside, the city drew a breath, illuminated by amber streetlights and the quiet rumble of passing cars. Within, the world held its breath. Warm. Intimate. Holy.

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I felt the familiar burn as it slid down my throat, praying to whatever deity would listen that it'd numb the pounding headache beginning to overwhelm all my other senses. “Fuck me,” I mumbled under my breath as I opened the book titled, ‘History of the Great War.’ It was the usual stuff, talking about the first days of humans discovering the supernatural world was real, the attacks within our governments and armies, and the billions who had died. God, it had been a cluster fuck, a well-planned cluster fuck that none of us had seen coming. The war had been going on for a little over seventy years by the time I was born, just in time for me to participate in the la

They surrounded me from different angles, their eyes gleaming with hunger and malice. I ran with everything I had, praying I could outrun their attack. Suddenly, a sharp ache tugged at my lower belly, and fear spiked in my chest, but there was no way I could stop now. Behind me came a chorus of growls. A rush of hot, foul air hit my back, followed by sharp pain. Claws raked across my flesh, tearing a burning line down my spine. I hit the ground, rolling twice, just barely managing to shake the wolf off me. However, when I looked up, I froze. The exit was blocked. Both front and back were sealed with countless glowing green eyes staring at me in the dark like fireflies.

I will vanish into the cracks. I smile. It is a small, hard smile. "Burn them all, Aureliano," I whisper to the smoke. "Burn them all for me." I let the curtain fall. I turn back to the room. The silence is loud. The war has started. And I have a front-row seat.

Her childish voice echoed in his mind even now, but the person who had said those words was gone. Those soothing words now felt like sharp daggers, cutting into his heart. Terrified and trembling to his core, he realized he was truly alone. When Henley climbed onto the windowsill, he felt a strange sense of peace. He wanted to see Joanna again, to feel her stroke his hair and softly tell him she was still there. The rain poured all night. When Henley woke up the next day, he thought he had already died. However, when warm sunlight touched his body, he realized he was still alive.

When I regained consciousness, I saw my mother crying. Once she noticed that I was awake, she quickly wiped her tears away, held my hand, and asked worriedly, “How do you feel, Luna?” I did not cry when I learned that Winnie was pregnant with Jake’s baby, nor did I cry when I felt the life within me slowly fade away as I lay on the cold operating table, but when I saw the sympathy on my mother’s face, I could no longer hold my grief back. I bawled.

That's how people on the edge of divorce should act. Worried Prof. Dalloz might go in harder, I leaned close. "Prof. Dalloz, we're on his plane. Maybe ease up a little?" Another cold snort. But he didn't say a word. Just stared out the window. "I'm gonna rest for a bit," he said, eyes drifting shut. That was the last time he did. He looked the same—head high, back straight. Even in death, he still carried that quiet pride.

The house was too quiet. Not the kind of quiet that brought peace—but the kind that watched you. Followed you from room to room. Settled into your bones and stayed there. By the next day, it had already begun. The war. Not loud. Not obvious. Controlled. — I sat by the window in my room, one leg tucked beneath me, a book resting open in my hands. The words blurred more often than not—not because I couldn’t read them, but because my mind kept circling back to him.

Chapter 28: The Price of Victory Lillias’ POV The battlefield had fallen silent, save for the labored breaths of the wounded and the soft whimpers of the survivors. It was a fragile peace, one that had been earned through bloodshed. The scent of blood hung thick in the air, mingling with the burnt earth and the faint traces of smoke still curling up from the remnants of destroyed homes. Victory had come at a great cost.