Clouds Of Witness Novels & Stories

The pen drive was just a misdirection. I had sent the security footage to Philip’s phone through the cloud. I did that in order to get Joy to tell me the truth behind my parents’ deaths. The phone in my pocket also sent all that she said to the police station. With all the evidence, even if she tried to claim innocence, it was impossible for her to do so. … Joy objected to my accusations. After a month or so, we met again in court. She gave me a challenging smile. “Alania, even if you managed to get proof, it doesn’t matter. I’ll show you that I can still get out of this scot-free.”

Each vision was accompanied by a wave of emotional intensity as if the memories were trying to communicate something important. In one particularly haunting vision, Lyra saw a young woman standing on the edge of a cliff, her silhouette framed against the twilight sky. The woman looked exactly like Lyra, with the same features and expression. The wind whipped around her, and she was whispering Elias’s name, her voice filled with a mix of sorrow and longing.

“Nothing can exist between worlds. You either are or you are not.” “That was my understanding as well,” the Guardian admitted. “Yet here stands proof otherwise.” By the time a response team reached the intruder, the wolf had seated themselves calmly in the centre of the settlement’s main square, waiting with patient calm that suggested they had expected the response. They were older than any living wolf in the network, fur completely white with age, eyes carrying depths that made even hardened warriors uncomfortable to meet directly. “I am called Witness,” the wolf said when the armed team surrounded them. “I mean no harm. I come bearing information you need to survive what approaches.”

This is indeed the epitome of elegance and tranquility. *** Cloud's POV I just arrived home from dropping Athena off at her office, but now I am at my library, receiving messages from my manager about new and upcoming projects. Regardless of the fact that I was unceasingly clustered for a work-from-home setup, I was indeed operating well in my profession. I have clearly proven to them that my invisible presence would never jeopardize my growth and performance with the work allocated to me by my company, and I am extremely thankful that they have placed so much faith and confidence in me and reevaluated my request; Otherwise, I would already have resigned a few months ago.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this.” My heart slams against my ribs. “You’re the witness.” She nods. “I am.” “To what?” Gideon asks sharply. The woman tilts her head, considering him. “To the moment things stopped being inevitable.” The silver pulses. Hard. Milo whimpers. I swallow. “You said one crossing. One witness.” “And that’s what this is,” the woman says gently. “I cross. I see. I leave.” Ruby laughs, sharp and brittle. “You make it sound like a tourist stop.”

Her head tilted, and her body stiffened. “What is it?” I asked. She went utterly still. “Something just crossed the wards.” I was up in an instant. We ran, side by side, to the edge of camp where the southern pines met the cursed stretch of forest. Warriors had already gathered, weapons drawn. And standing just beyond the edge of the boundary, where the air turned sick with rot— —was a single cursed wolf. Still. Watching. Its eyes were silver fire. It didn’t attack. It didn’t move.

One by one, the Alphas spoke. Some hadn’t seen anything firsthand but mentioned strange weather patterns, unexplained deaths, or warriors gone missing. Others had seen more—shadows in the trees, heat without fire, howls that didn’t belong to any known species. One Alpha from the east said a pup had screamed through three nights of nightmares—red skies and claws like spears. Another shared that two of his warriors came back from patrol broken, whispering about “eyes in the dark.” It wasn’t just Foraker. It was everywhere.

Jaryth reached to stop her but her expression made him freeze. Not fear. Not defiance. Clarity. She crouched slowly in the spiral’s center, touching the stone at its heart. And whispered: “I name you. Not as weapon. Not as wound. But as witness.” The ground beneath her shimmered. Then parted. But not down. Upward A column of thread-light rose from the spiral, reaching into the sky and splintering into branches of color. The sky dimmed around it not darkness, but absorption, like the bloom was pulling from the sunlight itself.

The world began to disappear beneath my feet. Not violently. Not painfully. Quietly. The palace stones dissolved into drifting particles of light, floating upward toward the rift as if reality itself was being rewritten. Gasps echoed around us as warriors struggled to keep their balance on ground that no longer fully existed. Above, the Final Witness descended. It was neither light nor darkness. It was memory made form. Its body shimmered with countless shifting images lives, worlds, moments unfolding endlessly across its surface. Every movement revealed fragments of existence itself.

It was a raw, paralyzing fear—the kind only a being millions of years old could truly possess. "It remembers." Ava’s stomach tightened. "What remembers?" Daniel’s silver gaze slowly lifted toward the heavens. "The Witness." The name sent a violent ripple through the network, causing billions of connected minds to react instinctively. Even without understanding what the title meant, the word itself felt profoundly wrong. It felt like a bleeding wound in reality itself. Marcus staggered forward, his voice a frail whisper. "The Witness?" The First Human nodded through Daniel’s levitating form. "It observes."