Novel & Cerita Buried In The Sky

It was Hudson's voice. "Will Sean really be fine being buried underground for seven days, Mona? He's going to be buried today, and it feels too cruel to treat him like this. He's my brother, after all." I was filled with hope that I might be saved, and I roared helplessly in my heart, "Help! I'm begging you to open the coffin to take a look inside. All it takes is one look to know that I'm awake. I don't want to be buried alive. I don't want to experience the pain of suffocating to death in the dark!"

Above them, the sky stretched wide and endless. And somewhere deep beneath it all— The bond pulsed. Unbreakable. Unchosen. Unstoppable. 🩸

The silver burns on his neck had scarred over into a jagged, metallic map of their first battle. "Vane is at the epicenter," Elias whispered, his hand finding the small of her back. "The Yorkshire bunker is hidden beneath a ley line nexus that I mapped in 1610. He thinks the ancient earth will protect him." "The earth belongs to those who know its heart," Cat replied, her voice echoing with a power that made the very air vibrate. The Infiltration: Redrawing the Lines They didn't use the stairs. Cat reached out to the golden grid of the bunker's security perimeter and simply unmade it. The reinforced steel doors of the Syndicate’s stronghold didn't just open; they disintegrated into rust, the

Pain exploded through me, and then I was out. When I came to, I was already dead. I hovered in the air, taking in my body that had now corroded into nothing but a skeleton.

was busy trying to build a castle for an earthworm king. "I'll keep the wind away as long as I can, Sari," Maria whispered to the empty air, using the name she had only ever seen on a blurred note. "I promise. She’s rooted in the light now."

But that didn’t matter. The truth mattered more than anything else. — As they neared the coordinates, the sky above them darkened. The Caucasus Mountains loomed ahead, jagged peaks cutting through the clouds like shards of broken glass. The air was thin here, the kind of altitude that made breathing harder, but that didn’t stop them from pressing forward. The Vault was buried deep within these mountains, hidden beneath layers of rock and earth. A natural defense system, impossible to detect from above. And Maia’s message had confirmed their worst fears: no one had ever gotten close to it, and few ever would.

“I’ve heard of them. I know them… far too well.” He smiled, mistaking my meaning. I reached for my wine and took a sip—not because I wanted to, but because I needed something to ground me. “Okay,” I said finally, setting the glass down with purpose. “Fine. I’ll do it.” ************Two weeks later************ The sky outside was dull and grey, the kind of afternoon that hung low on the skin like damp cloth. I sat cross-legged on the floor of Mark’s room, his tiny socks and shirts folded into a box that felt too big for the innocence I was packing away.

Vincent’s ears twitched as he strained for any hint of a whisper or a scream—anything at all. "Camela!" His roar erupted from deep within him, echoing strangely without any actual sound. His lips moved, his throat burned with effort, but the grave swallowed every trace of sound. He pressed his claws against his ears in frustration and snarled, “What kind of trick is this?” The tombstone glowed brighter, and the name Vincent Fox throbbed like a heartbeat. Slowly, faint letters began to carve themselves beneath it: “Buried but not broken. Dead but not gone.”

Contrary to what's pictured in movies, TV shows and artworks, it's not raining at the funeral. In fact, the sky is so blue and clear that this could be a peaceful day if a man was not being buried. It appears that even the heavens won't mourn the loss of James Evans. Funny to think, The Evans family used to cherish appearances so much, but in the end, this society abandoned them, as most of his friends weren't at his final moments… The coffin goes down into the hole, six feet under, and some flowers are thrown to show him at least some sorrow.

Everything felt too raw, too soon. Three days later, we buried Alex under a heavy gray sky that refused to rain, as if even the heavens were holding back their tears. I stood at the graveside in a simple black dress, feeling completely hollow inside. Eleanor remained close, her arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders for support. Across the grave, Damian Voss watched us with cold, burning fury etched into every line of his face, tall, broad-shouldered, radiating power and barely contained rage. Alex’s older half-brother. The ruthless billionaire who controlled the Voss empire with an iron fist. He hadn’t said a single word to me yet, but I could already sense the storm he carried toward me.