Baca Novel Apotheosis Novels & Stories

Nicole got up and dashed to the book which he quickly retrieved and tossed it towards Jake who grabbed it. By the time Apophis realized what had happened, Jake was running on top of him, heading towards his head, with the book closed and the pentacle glowing brighter than ever. He tried to wiggle him off and at one point, Jake almost fell off but not before slamming the book onto the back of the snake's head, with the symbol pressed against it. Apophis let out a terrible hiss accompanied with wailing and screaming as the book began to glow even brighter with orange light.

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She can only differentiate them through their sizes and colors so she has to diligently flip through each book’s first few pages to find out what the content of the story were even about. Proserpina goes through each book on the shelf slowly and mechanically, flips through the pages to try and find… at least something that will catch her interest–there was a story about the origin of soul mates, the concept of rebirth, the rise and fall of Elder Gods, Trojan War–only to no avail. It seems that most of the books Athena has been more on about history, serious matters than what is to be considered anything appropriate for a light reading.

I lifted my head to see what happened to Apocalypse. To my surprise was there a big hole in the ceiling and lots of debris and rubble mixed with wooden beams. I got up and walked over to what was over of the ceiling. I heard some groans coming from under the debris. Apocalypse was barely alive and stuck under big stone pieces and wooden beams. “You have to do better and more than this to stop me, you pathetic woman.” She coughed and spitted a clot of blood.

"Tomorrow I still have to go to the Hope Camp to deal with the last batch of 'patients.' And Celine is almost at the final stage too—I need to stay by her side and see whether she can awaken an ability. "Guillermo, don't disappoint me." Smiling, Ray took out his phone and started reading a novel. He had downloaded them all before the apocalypse—completed ones, of course. Any unfinished story would surely be abandoned forever, doomed to eternal hiatus. "I hate authors who drop their stories," he muttered, "but this time I'll let it slide. After all, this is a natural disaster—force majeure." Before he knew it, it was almost five o'clock. The sky, already gloomy, grew even darker.

My name is Jennie Dawson. I was just an ordinary college girl whose biggest achievement was pulling all-nighters to read smut novels. Then one night I dropped dead at my desk… and woke up inside the very book I was reading, as a pretty background character who happened to share my name. The heroine, Nancy Porter, was a transmigrator with a system. Her mission was to seduce my brother and turn him into her devoted plaything, living a life of indulgence with her day and night until she could finally return to her world.

The system is old and slow, and it takes a couple of minutes for the book titles to begin showing up. There aren’t many books out there, and to my dismay, most of them are references, casual mentions. The few books bearing the title are mostly by one author, a C. J. Lowenstein. Going by instinct, I reverse search the author’s name, only to realize that all his works are on the Blood Moon Hybrid. He’s written a couple of books. Choosing the first one on the list, I try to check where it is only to find out that it’s been checked out.

030 [Alora’s POV] I was in my room, sitting peacefully on my bed as I drafted new chapters for my ongoing book. The word count read 20,000, and I couldn't help but sigh. I hadn’t had the time to write properly lately—all thanks to the drama playing out in this house like a never-ending soap opera. But right now? This was my only chance to make progress, and there was no way I’d let it slip. Just when I clicked back into the zone, a knock came at the door.

Chapter 335: The Architecture of After The rain returned on the morning of the third day, but it had lost its frantic, washing quality. It was now a steady, rhythmic pulse that seemed to synchronize with the city’s own internal cadence. Sophia stood in the doorway of the Archive, watching the water cascade from the rusted gutters of the old library. The "Inventory of Echoes" had grown overnight. Boxes of salvaged memories sat on the floor, waiting to be cataloged. But today, the atmosphere had shifted. It wasn't about the past anymore; it was about the transition. People were bringing in items that bridged the gap—solar-powered lanterns modified with hand-crank backups, hand-drawn maps of th

I can't stop thinking about everything, from the cave to Gabriel being my mate and then to saving the people. It is starting to become so depressing especially since I don't even have a clue where to find the moonstone. I have finished my mom's book and I haven't found anything useful again apart from the handwritten poem at the back. With everything worth sacrificing, I chose my own flesh. Out of the weak comes the strong And out of the strong comes the mighty. The purest of all. White as snow, pure as the blood in her veins. The war is coming. At the strike of the snow on the ground.