Edge Of The Apocalypse Novels & Stories

Then static slammed down. Apollo roared. The sound shattered what remained of the windows. Glass exploded outward into the dark beyond, raining over the outer ledge like fallen stars rejected from Heaven. Far below, something screamed in the courtyards. The mountain answered with a deep, groaning shift. Somewhere in the palace, bells began ringing of their own accord, not alarm bells, not war bells, but old warning chimes embedded in the walls before Apollo’s reign, singing because the Devil’s grief had begun to look too much like apocalypse.

I ask, completely confused. "The book. Hidden edges."

Lucas asked, his eyes glowing with the fire of a thousand suns. "The 'Edge'," Audrey whispered, as the Union’s "Universal-Foundry" began to move into the "Deep-Void," seeking out the next cold world that needed a "Spark."

And tucked against my chest, warm and steady, my son is narrating the apocalypse. “The Rage has breached the third defensive construct,” Confluence says thoughtfully. “Madness favors illusion over reinforcement. It’s a flawed strategy against something so direct.” “You’ve been alive less than an hour,” Alistair growls. “I’ve been aware far longer,” my son replies. We crest a rocky incline, joining the stream of refugees fleeing in the opposite direction of whatever cosmic horror now tears at the world behind us. Wolves. Humans. Children. Some barefoot. Some bleeding. All terrified.

We celebrated in her shop and filled the air not with cream, but the smell of barbecue. And the tablet in her shop was, as usual, airing news that ruined my mood. The news was talking about the Claude Group. It was a new company and was going strong in the first six months of the year. Now it was in a crisis, and Lauren, the CEO, stepped down. They filed for bankruptcy and started restructuring. I changed the channels. Ah, better. Now it was showing a popular comedy variety show. Laughter came from the screen, and the three of us raised a toast. "To a bright future!"

00:25:48. Panic, cold and slick, began to seep into the edges of Anton’s control. He looked at the global map, at the nodes representing hospitals, banks, grids. He thought of the chaos, the cascading collapse. The legacy of his name would not be an empire, but an apocalypse.

the Goddess said serenely. I looked at my mother, who seemed lost in deep thought. Suddenly, I felt the scorching heat as the moons drew dangerously close. If they had already neared the Dark Realm, then they must be even closer to the rest of the world, bringing the apocalypse—the end of everything. The entire sky blazed crimson, casting an eerie glow over the land as waves of molten lava surged forward, spreading wider with each passing second. The heat was suffocating, the air thick with the scent of burning ground.

"It's starting. Whatever you predicted, it's starting. And we're out of time." Maya followed him through chaos. Other prisoners being processed out. Guards abandoning their posts. People running. In the processing room, Daniel was waiting with Sloane. "The apocalypse," Daniel said without preamble. "It's not in twelve days. It's happening now. Temperature drops across the northeast. Sudden, catastrophic. The Governor issued an emergency order releasing you because—" The lights flickered. Went out. Emergency backup kicked in. "—because the power grid is failing," Daniel finished. "Maya, we need to get to the shelter. Right now."

The fissure had long since closed over. People moved through it like any other street corner, but someone had lined the edge with white roses and small bouquets, and here and there were snacks and drinks left among them. I wasn't the only one who had lost someone that day. In the apocalypse, no one came through untouched. But it was over now. That was what mattered. I sniffled quietly, set my white roses down, then slipped the small pink backpack from my shoulder and left it there too. The wind moved through the trees. I crouched down and pressed my hand flat against the ground.