Deadman Wonderland Warden Novels & Stories

He holds it in his palm, his eyes wide with triumph and awe. The cost is immediate. We now have a divine weapon sitting on our mantlepiece. It looks like a snow globe from a nightmare. One dropped slip, one moment of lost focus from its creator, and it could unmake our home. Our peace is now guarded by a potential apocalypse of our own making. The door chime rings. It’s a sound we haven’t heard in an age. Arthur and I exchange a single, horrified glance. We know who it is. The Warden stands on our doorstep. Their suit is still grey, but it seems less certain of itself. The painful empathy in their eyes is now mixed with something else. A raw, intellectual hunger.

“It’s real. The one from the northern mythologies. A pre-Gate entity.” Lucien drew his blade. “What does it want?” The Warden’s smile didn’t reach its eyes. “I want balance.” Seraphina narrowed her eyes. “By freezing the world?” “By silencing it. Fire screams. Ice remembers.” Without warning, the Warden lunged. Dante pulled Seraphina back as Lucien struck. The blade passed through air. The creature dissipated. Gone. But the cold remained. --- They returned to the capital that night, bearing warnings instead of wounds.

"If Lord Vane has sent out a hunting party set on the mountains, eventually they will come for us. We must have the Daywalker Amulets." I approached the large doors. I didn't have to find a lock. I sucked on the wound on my finger, widening the cut. I pressed my bloodied palm to the middle of the red wards. Welcome, Warden, the magic whispers in my mind. The red wards suddenly blazed white. The huge black doors slowly, creakingly opened, breaking the seal that had been in place for decades. We emerged from the frigid sunlight into the gloom and silence of the temple's interior.

The Warden surged forward, smashing into the shadow, and the tendrils recoiled. But the ancient presence roared—not in sound, but in intent. “Caretaker… you cannot survive me. You are not worthy.” Riven’s jaw tightened. “I don’t care what you think. I am Meridian’s caretaker. And I will survive. For Saint. For Luca. For the city. For all of them.” The Warden’s power flared, and the ground shook violently. Energy rippled outward, and the shadow screeched, molten eyes burning, form cracking like obsidian glass.

although I never saw him sympathize with the ways of the new order, and his wife of nearly 60 years is part wolf, he is still a bear. I am certain he would never hurt her directly, his protective nature towards woman preventing him from doing so, but that doesn’t mean he might not slip up and mention something to a relative. A protective growl leaves my muzzle, caused merely by the thought of someone else knowing about my Tara. “whohoowww there old friend” Jack tries, sounding almost like he’s attempting to slow down a run away horse, but as I growl in warning again, the back door of the Lincoln opens, revealing the slender figure of none other than Linda Mason-Deveraux. I throw a venomous

He started walking forward, showing them the way to the city. There were many more werewolves in the pack house, including the assassin werewolf Etta Suzette Gelbero, who was a spy and the trainer of the scout wolves. The lead warriors Ultima Wolf Edric Wilson and Ultima Wolf Drik Wilson, who trained the warriors of the Gravefur Pack, and Howl Wolf Vladimir Lorenzo usually supported the horn with their life along with Alpha. They were all eagerly awaiting their return.

Then the lead Warden reached the valley floor. The giant figure stopped. Nearly eight feet tall. Covered in weathered silver armor. Its face hidden behind an ancient mask. The silence became suffocating. Then the Warden knelt. The entire valley froze. A second Warden knelt. Then a third. Then all of them. Hundreds. Kneeling. Not to Lucien. Not to Ronan. To Althea. Shock rippled through the camp. Even the Guardian looked stunned. The lead Warden lowered its head.

Six months after I died, Serena Beckett came back to the cemetery looking for me. The wind blowing was cold and biting. I floated above my grave, watching her charge over in her high heels, her face pale and ashen. "Jason Shaw! Get out here!" She shoved aside a staff member trying to stop her and dug her nails deep into my photo on the tombstone. "William Clark needs a kidney right now. You're going to donate it, whether you want to or not! What kind of stunt is this? Hiding here and playing dead?"

Barbara's grandfather's gaze shifted out of the car window beside him, his hand still caressing the top of Linda's head which was now resting on his shoulder. Aryadi is a wolf-shifter from the Black Wolf tribe as well, but he has rarely visited a base like that bunker since his dispute with Elder Magen long ago. Although Elder Magen seemed to have put their problems aside after the young wolf-shifter found Aryadi's body lying unconscious near the headquarters and took care of him.

I knew he could sense the underlying dormant danger that the Supreme possessed. I remained unmoving in my place. This interaction feels like the Supreme is holding an invisible sharp blade, pointed towards my neck, and if I make any wrong movements, he would slice my head off with ease. I don’t think he is an ally of anyone but himself. I bit the insides of my cheek. What a scary, mysterious man. “I hope we can work together soon,” the Celestial Warden broke the growing silence between us. There was a glint in his eyes, “I am certain I will be calling for you someday.”