Awakening Remnant Novels & Stories

For the first time since arriving at Nightfall— she looked genuinely shaken. “No…” Althea turned toward her sharply. “What?” Seraphine stared at Mira. At the silver resonance. At the bloodline activation spreading through the territory. “The awakening is spreading.”

Thinking I was bleeding, I lifted my shirt—only to see that the diamond-shaped mark on my waist had vanished. “Awakening has three stages: first, you live like an ordinary person. Second, you regain your memories. Third, you awaken as a chief god. When awakening occurs, you may choose to discard the memories of your reborn life and fully become the self from over three thousand years ago… or you may retain all your current memories…” Her pale purple lips moved with each word, and I absorbed every single one—but it was completely beyond my ability to process. Memories spanning millennia, every shattered fragment from my dreams, all surged like a tidal wave, completely drowning my thoughts. I

"Thorne is going to activate the Rift, Silas. If he does, there won't be a Board or a Council left to vote. There will just be him and his hive." ​Silas looked at Leo’s scarred arm, her eyes narrowing. "I know. That’s why I’m here. I’m not the only one who didn't get 'Activated.' There’s a pocket of us, wolves who were out on the perimeter when the signal hit. We’re calling ourselves the Remnant." ​"How many?" Leo asked.

His eyes shone crimson in the dim light. “I was wondering when the tribe would remember its own history.” I was now on my guard, “Who are you?” He smirked, “You may call me what your ancestors did.” Then, he finally stepped fully into the glow. “The Remnant.” Jessica and I were ready for a battle, but he only said, “Beware! If Sheila regains her memories, she will have to be sacrificed to restart the seal!”

He drove the broken obsidian blade into the center of Remnant’s chest—the glowing core where the Archive backup was stored. The explosion was silent. A wave of violet energy rippled outward from the double, washing over the battlefield. The Refurbished warriors didn't die; they simply stopped. They stood like statues, their silver armor turning to dull, rusted iron. Remnant’s face began to pixelate. The perfection faded, revealing a hollow frame of wire and light beneath. "The... the investors... will not be pleased..." Remnant’s voice glitched one last time before his eyes went dark. ---

The voice replied, its tone gentle yet profound, "I am a Remnant, a vestige of the universe's first thoughts, its initial dreams. I've awakened with the alignment, sensing the unity you all have forged." Draken, suspicion evident in his stance, asked, "Why now? Why show yourself at this pivotal moment?" The Remnant's voice held a hint of sadness. "The universe is cyclical, always evolving, always returning. With the alignment, old pathways reopen, and ancient memories stir. I am here as both a witness and a guide." Alec, ever the diplomat, inquired, "A guide to what? What path lies ahead?" The Remnant responded, "A path is forgotten, where realms were not distinct but interconnected, where b

The copper taste of betrayal on my tongue as the sky over Boston turned to ink. "She’s awake! Doctor, she’s opening her eyes!" The voice hit me like a physical blow. It was Lurii. But her voice was wrong, it was higher, thinner, vibrating with a youthful, frantic energy untouched by the years of bourbon and bitterness I’d heard on that rooftop. I blinked, my vision swimming through a haze of tears and the stinging glare of the overhead lights. As the shapes solidified, I saw them. Standing on either side of my bed were the two architects of my ruin. Marcus and Lurii.

I lick my lip to try and feel out what's so wrong, only to find teeth sharp and long, and a sensation of fur around the edges. I wolfed. I’m a wolf, and I shake it off, shake my head to bring my sight back to clear and fuzz-free, so I can turn and see the others around me. A weird movement that’s ungraceful and dog-like, that knocks me off balance. Nearby, a smaller wolf sits and looks at its paws, as I was, yet it glows too. Blue and surreal, as though the moon has rolled down to illuminate us with her touch, and it’s eerily pretty. Something I have never seen before at an Awakening. They don’t seem to be in pain anymore, either, and I wonder if the worst has passed. None of them is crying

The dawn broke reluctantly over the horizon, a pale, silvery light filtering through the mist that still clung stubbornly to the forest surrounding the ancient temple. Amelia Whitford rose slowly from the small bed of cloaks and sheepskin where she had been resting, the ache in her limbs a harsh reminder of the night’s battles. Her golden-flecked eyes reflected a new awareness, a recognition of the power that coursed relentlessly through her veins. She had awakened forces she barely understood, yet somehow, instinctively, she knew she could harness them.