Descendants 3 Dig A Little Deeper Novels & Stories

Isang boses na parang pinaghalong bulong ko at ng kanyang sariling boses ang umalingawngaw sa aming utak, direkta mula sa loob ng aking sinapupunan. "Father..." the child spoke through the "Sync," the digital-biological hybrid laughing inside my womb with the exact, multi-layered resonance of Julian Moretti. "The Descent is waiting. Open the gate, or I will burn her from the inside out." (Watch out for Chapter 268) 💬 Add to library | Drop your Comment/ Reviews | Send Gifts Thank you readers.

We all had been actively participating in the pack matter for more than three years. Blocking all the other entrances was a major decision. “I didn’t meet my dad after returning from Raymond’s apartment.” Carter explained, and everyone said the same thing. I was a bit confused, but Gabriel gave me a look, making me shut my mouth, and I didn’t ask anything anymore. We reached level 3 by now. This was the third floor inside the basement. We all wrinkled our noses in disgust when a filthy smell of stench assaulted our nostrils as soon as we stepped down there.

Even if other Fire volts try to open it but they are not descendants of the Jivosaa family, then they will fail. Seconds later after Aven activated the pin, the floor in front of him slid open in a two-by-two meter square. A descending staircase was visible from above, leading down to the dark underground. Aven carried Asura back on his back, gritting his teeth as the pain in his wound was like biting bone. The man then descended, while the secret door slowly closed again automatically.

"The specs say 2,600 feet." "They will never make it. The water pressure at 3,000 feet will crush their docking chamber like a tin can." Brody glanced at me but said nothing. His phone buzzed again. "The second team, the retired military crew... They say they've got a modified diving bell and have gone past 3,000 feet before." "3,000 feet isn’t deep enough. The undercurrents around that site are brutal, and they probably won’t make it back alive. What about the third one?"

This time it was Adrian who spoke. Alena and Victoria glanced at each other, then swallowed hard. How could they not? Scott's three heirs looked scary when they were serious and assertive like now. Especially Darren, who exuded the coldest aura. Jake Wilson, who heard the news of Scott's three sons' arrival, was delighted. He immediately told the servants to entertain them in the dining room. The four of them talked warmly and discussed the car bomb case that had befallen Alena. “Thank you all so much for your concern for Alena. I'm glad so many people care about my granddaughter,” said Jake, looking at the three of them in turn.

I got my Zweizerland visa fast. The day before I flew out, Margot called. Total desperation in her voice. "Wynne—no, Ms. Warrington, please... help us. We've lost everything. We're homeless, starving... For Jason's sake, show us some mercy..." I just listened. Said nothing. "Ms. Warrington? Are you there? I'll do anything—be your servant! I'm begging on my knees!" Thud. Definitely her knees hitting the floor.

] I merely replied, [Then, am I just to wait for death? [No. There's another solution.] Dr. Chenowith sent me a screenshot of a map. A red marker glowed in the middle of nowhere, 300 kilometers away from the city. It was an abandoned lighthouse. [That’s the original signal reception site. There’s a jammer there. It can sever your link to it, but you have to reach it before full Deep Sea-fication.] [Remember. No matter what you hear or see, don't stop the car. It uses your strongest emotions and memories to stop you.]

“It’s my fault… everything is my fault…” I looked down at her, my mind a jumble of conflict and memories. The quiet desperation in her voice, the trembling grip, the kneeling figure, it tugged at some long-dormant part of me, something tender and conflicted. Then, the faintest echo of footsteps drew my attention. Faster. Heavier. More deliberate. Each footfall pressed against the floor like a drumbeat in my chest. My heart clenched slightly as I recognized them. The triplets. Frederick with them.

He didn’t blink. “There’s something buried beneath our bloodline. Something they once called a gift. But it’s not. It’s a curse. We see too much. Feel too deep. Remember too long. And the Descendants — they use that. They take children like you. Like Tristan. They dig their claws into your memory and twist it until you forget who you are. That’s what they want for Cara.” The voice crackled.