Doomsday Sanctuary Novels & Stories

Episode 17: The Prison Beneath Reality The sanctuary stopped feeling like a fortress. It felt like the lid of something buried alive. That realization settled into everyone slowly after the tremor beneath the convergence layers. No alarms sounded now. No violent eruptions. No dramatic system failures. The sanctuary had become too advanced for panic. Instead, it reacted with silence—tightening corridors, dimming unnecessary light channels, sealing lower pathways automatically as if ancient instincts hidden inside the architecture were trying to protect the upper levels from whatever had awakened below.

Because it's true I look down at my hands, they're shaking, not from fear but the amount of restraint and power I'm holding back. My claws tear into my palms, my eyes gaze at the piece of cloth in my arm, the scent is fading, almost gone. If it disappears, I pray I disappear with it. Dax clears his throat carefully. “There's a Tier- one facility on the border.” he continues. “It's called the sanctuary.” “They have reinforced isolation suites,” he continues. “Titanium and silver walls, soundproofed and no omega unless requested.” I close my eyes, Finn says. “Just a place to weather the storm.” I close my eyes, breathing hard, body trembling, I need to leave now. “Prepare the transport.”

They followed the pylons, trusting the logic of old infrastructure, winding northward through the broken country. At twilight, they found the substation. It wasn’t what Elena expected. The fence was ripped down, but the main gate had a sign—new, painted with careful letters: “Sanctuary. No weapons inside. Only the hungry and the lost.” Inside, a bonfire. Figures clustered around, faces ruddy and strange with relief. Some wore furs and some actual coats; one child wore a pink Hello Kitty backpack. Donovan signaled to Damon, who nodded, and together they approached the fire in full view. The crowd parted to make space. An old woman with a gray braid and a face mapfolded with lines rose to gree

"Oh, sorry. " "I, being the God of time, had already beheld the end of the world, and trust me, it wasn't like anything mankind ever anticipated. So many infinite schemes of doomsday, it could never be stopped except by the Black Stone. The Black Stone is the most feared object in the whole of 'The Sky Pillars'; where we Gods abide because of the power which it posses, but I had the responsibility of wielding it, even if it was never going to be used. "

That night they called “Draven Eclipse.” The sanctuary was prepared with majestic intensity. Deep crimson and gold torchlight mixed with moonlight, casting dramatic shadows across the black marble altar. The warm tropical breeze carried the thick scent of coconut oil, jasmine, sea salt, warm leaking milk, and the sharp, refined musk of old power. Over two hundred and fifty bodies filled the space. The encrypted global stream surged past 89 million viewers.

The snowstorm was a silent predator blanketing the Carpathian range. Everything about Sanctum 9 was designed to be forgotten—buried beneath mountains, disguised as a hydroelectric plant on outdated satellite maps. The truth? It was the heart of Lazarus. The final threshold. The endgame.

He rested his head on my shoulder. “I will not let them take him,” I said. “We know,” Joseph answered. We walked until the sun started to drop. The trees grew thicker. Old stone markers appeared between the roots, half buried and covered in moss. Joseph slowed down. “We are close,” he said. “The sanctuary is just ahead. The land here confuses scent and power. It should hide us for a few days.” The sanctuary was not a building. It was a wide circle of standing stones in a hidden hollow. Some stones were broken. Others still stood tall. The ground inside the circle felt different under my feet. Quieter. Heavier.

He could smell it. “Have you thought of training a Constant?” Kristina asked him when they reached the crossroads. Two high stones marked the territory of the Sanctuary. There could be found the doorsteps to other dimensions especially to the Palace of Los Barrios. The Hunt was held two nights ago and all of the Night Children, as practiced, went to the Sanctuary to celebrate and fulfill their natural cravings.

The morning sunlight attacked me like it had been waiting all night for this exact moment. Right through my thin curtains, stabbing me in the face like I’d personally offended the sun. I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. Not today. Please not today. But the second I shut my eyes, last night came rushing back. The alley. The men. Him. And that voice, low and final: “Doom has begun.” I sat up so fast my pillow hit the floor. My heart thudded against my ribs, too loud for morning.

Leo clung to him, burying his face against Silas’s neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent as Silas carried him not towards Leo’s room, but away from the exposed living area. He shouldered open the door to the one place Dominic ironically insisted was Leo’s ultimate sanctuary: the panic room. Reinforced steel walls, a biometric lock Silas controlled, soundproofed, shielded from all surveillance. The ultimate cage within the cage. Silas kicked the door shut behind them. It sealed with a heavy, final *thunk*, plunging them into near darkness, only a single emergency strip light casting long shadows.