Doomsday Ascending Novels & Stories

Serena held up the small black device—Ava’s virus key. “No more lies. No more legacies.” She plugged it in. Control Room – At the Same Time Damien moved quickly, disabling security layers one by one. The virus burrowed fast. Alarms screamed as Ava’s code dug in deeper than expected. Then— Click. A gun behind him. “Step away from the terminal,” a voice growled. A Foundation Officer. “You’re too late,” the man sneered. “Ascension is already in motion.” Damien raised his hands slowly, eyes on the flickering screens.

It was an old, p‌u⁠rely ind⁠ustrial int⁠erface—heav⁠y m‍e‌chanical lev⁠ers, ana‍log dia​ls, and a single‌, massive red​ tog⁠gle switch pro‌tected by a plastic g‍uard,‌ la​beled *MAN‍UAL OVERRIDE: STATION ASCENT⁠*. ​"Then we go straight up," Damien said, his voic⁠e d‌ropping to a dang‌erous, low freq⁠uency th​at r‌esonated with abs‍ol‌ute violence. "The Archit⁠ec​t wants an op‍ening enter‍tainme‍nt for her precious‌ C‌ou‍nc‌i‍l? Let's give thos‌e monsters a show⁠ they won't survive to ta‍lk​ about."

"This is about Optimization. The High Council and the Fifteen Blood-Lords are using the 'Cloud' to filter out the 'Too Much' energy. They are rewarding the shifters who choose the 'Perfect' memories and punishing the ones who hold onto the 'Glitches'—like your love for a monster" Suddenly, a massive, translucent screen appeared in the sky, eclipsing the blue sun. It wasn't a mirror or a gate; it was a Live-Feed. On the screen, I saw the Fourteen Blood-Lords. They were no longer knights of frozen agony; they were "Influencers" of the Void. They were dressed in robes of shimmering, digital silk, and they were broadcasting a memory of the "Original Hunger" as if it were a luxury feast. "WELCOME

I don’t know but it feels like we do have this awkward presence for each other and we both don’t know how to make it not an awkward one. “Why did you argue with Primo?” My head was occupied at that moment they fought over me. I still don’t know why and I want to know why they did it. “He’s just an annoying and arrogant peasant who pissed me.” Doom buries his face in the pillow. I replied, “Correction, he doesn’t look like a peasant for me. He’s a company holder and a future CEO.” “But he looks one. Tss,” Doom glared at me. I chuckled to tease him. “Okay, fine! But why were you arguing? And why did you murmur my name earlier?”

Sarah assured him. “After 500 years of our existence we can ascend, so to say… find some secluded place, make an altar, lay on it, and let our own fire consume us and take us from one life to another. After 9 days, we are born again from the ashes just like the legend says.” “And the secluded place is necessary because of the fire and all?” Sarah tried to imagine the scene in her head and indeed it was scary, like nothing she heard about the supernatural world before.

The line I had written at the bottom of my proposal page and almost crossed out twice. I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to verify what I've told you and then meet with me. If Ashton doesn't move in eighteen days I'll never contact you again. But if he does, and he will, then you'll want to hear what else I know. I sent it. The silence this time was the longest yet. I counted my own heartbeats. "My office," he said finally. "Tomorrow at eight AM." I exhaled slowly through my nose.

The elegant walls of the suite felt like they were closing in on me, echoing with phantom screams of the dying. I blinked rapidly, forcing the terrifying vision away until the modern room restored itself. My knees felt weak, and I walked back to sit on the edge of the plush bed. "This time will be completely different," I vowed quietly into the silence. This time, I would be prepared for the end. I summoned my system panel, watching the translucent blue screen materialize in midair. My eyes dropped to the bottom corner where the apocalyptic timer was ticking down mercilessly. 87 Days, 6 Hours, 12 Minutes.

"We've been expecting you. Step one of the ascension protocol is complete." Before Kaelen could roar and charge the platform, the massive doors behind us slammed shut with a deafening crash, sealing the exit. And from the shadows above the domed glass ceiling, the sound of a thousand mechanical gears began to grind to life.

Her green hair served as a covering for her nakedness, covering up her breasts and feminine folds. “Shut up!” Doom snapped, and he too came out of the dark. He was a giant man, with shiny golden skin and broad shoulders and chest—much bigger than Mischief. He was three times her size, and he didn’t know how the books said they were together, but he wasn’t here to figure that out. He was here to make a request. “I am a pusher of boundaries, and so I would say, six months.” “What’s six months?” Doom asked, looking a little clueless about it all.

*Boom* The stadium was rocked by the might of Professor Jackson, and for a second there, every single person in the audience felt the threat of death. Who was it that said Ascenders were weak? Who was it that called them inferior to gods? Here before Mane stood an Ascender capable of using a domain, destroying every stereotype there was about the exclusivity of domains. The difference between the laughing professor and the one standing here right now was so great that Mane would have believed that his examiner had been swapped if he hadn’t seen it happen directly.