Clockwork Angel Novels & Stories

And when she gets back to the Lost boy, should she tell him that what she thought was Peter is the Angel? Now that she worries about what will happen, the thought of when they get back home, to other world has crossed her mind. Will she be able to remember her friends? Is she going to wake up in a white room? Or to her room and gaze at her full sized window? Everything is uncertain. On a big cotton cloud above, The Angel of Death had just woken up with a big smirk plastered on his mouth. His clone, a much older version of him just got back from talking to the lady and has reported everything he wanted to know.

Lucifer's praise was only bestowed once in a blue moon after all. The door slid open. "Your time is up," Angela beamed, displaying her business smile to Lucifer. Lucifer frowned at her. "Can't you see I am talking to my men here?" "Of course I can Mr Camphell! I am not blind." Angela exclaimed sarcastically. She lifted her sleeve to reveal her platinum Rolex watch ticking silently. She verified the time and said. "It's time to take your medicines and your painkillers as well," "I am not done talking," He snarled.

I donned it, the screen flickering to life on my wrist. “Good morning, Angelina.” The voice was a smooth, synthetic baritone, emanating from the sleek watch on my wrist. It sliced through the thrumming in my skull, a sound so irritatingly pristine it felt like an assault. “It’s Ang, for fuck’s sake!” I snapped, my voice gravelly and raw. “How many times must I say it? My name is Ang. It’s three fucking letters.” A barely perceptible holographic shimmer hovered above the watch face. “I do apologise. Good morning, Ang. The time is 9:45, Saturday the 2nd of June 2035. You have no appointments.”

The host must defeat the attackers and discover who is behind them. [Reward - Deathwing Angel hatch time is decreased by 50%] How the hell?

By the time I closed the final report, the clock on my monitor was past midnight. I leaned back, took a deep breath, then stood. My back protested. Enough for tonight. I needed sleep. But the moment I opened the door, my steps stopped. Angela was right there. Asleep. Sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, head tilted to her shoulder, breathing soft and even. My brow lifted automatically. Stupid. Persistent. Or both. I stared at her for a few seconds without moving. This woman… always found a way to complicate my life more than necessary.

These were entities who could adjust the gravitational constant of a sun with a turn of a brass wrench or rewrite the atmospheric composition of a gas giant by whispering a new "Resonance-Code." Audrey looked at her own reflection in a pool of "Liquid-Memory" within the Grand Refectory. She saw a woman whose silhouette was composed of shifting geometric gears and starlight, yet she still wore the heavy leather apron of a master smith. The "Clockwork-Gods" did not demand worship; they demanded "Maintenance." They were the "Deities of the Daily-Grind," and their temples were the massive, inter-dimensional refineries that hummed with the effort of keeping the multiversal engine in gear.

Wrath asked, voice low and dangerously smooth. She licked her lips, blinking up at him innocently. The sight shook him. Slowly a full smile embraced his face which halted Angela’s breath. “Because the countdown is over. It’s time for you to return to me, Angel.”

He reached out and unpinned it from the clock’s face, the paper trembling in his hand. “I don’t know who,” Elliot said finally, his voice tight. “But whoever it is… they’ve been watching for a long time.” Emma joined him by the clock, her gaze shifting from the photograph to the cracked face of the timepiece. The clock’s hands ticked forward steadily, moving toward midnight. “It’s broken,” she said, frowning. “The glass is shattered, but it’s still running.” Elliot nodded. “It’s not just running. It’s counting down.”

With each strike landing on his already battered body, I felt his skull begin to cave, bones crunching under my knuckles, the wolf's wretched blood splattering my chest; his eye exploded, spraying up my face, grinning darkly, pleased to feel Ares's satisfaction. I could feel him in my mind, adrenaline fueling us both, as my fists slammed unapologetically into what used to be his nose and eye sockets—growling like a wild animal guarding his kill against others, seeing a hand touch my prey. Snapping my head around to face the lush green eyes of my angel, my eyes flared with the demonic fury I felt rippling through me until I heard her sweet voice filter through my anger. "Come back to me, Ace!