Enigma Of Amigara Fault Novels & Stories

So instead, when you moved to let me breathe, I blinked and hid it with a smile. - Enigma. The word rolled around in her head like a bullet through the glass and it shattered completely when her eyes open. She fixates his pupils onto the fan in the center of the hotel ceiling and sighed in exhaustion. Minjae wondered how he ended up where she was despite all the want not to be.

Amara begged as her tears fell down her cheeks. The warriors only laughed at her plea. She then hugged her father, trying to protect him at all cost. “Argus, you've been an amazing servant. The Alpha trusted you more than anyone in Omega. How dare you do this to him?” “I didn't! I told you, it wasn't me!” “It wasn't him, believe us, sir! Please try to investigate further! There might be a mistake—” Amara wasn't able to finish her words when Isaac, the other warrior, attacked her.

The question hit differently. Not as command. Not as protocol. But as vulnerability. Ama stared at her. Not as system. Not as stabilizer. Not as fragment. As something asking to exist in a way that did not erase others. “You’re not my origin,” Ama said slowly. A pause. “And you’re not my replacement.” Elena flickered. Waiting. Ama continued. “You’re a version of truth that tried to hold everything together… and couldn’t.” Arthur whispered, “That’s not a system-compatible classification…”

Messages sent in the encryption code only he and I knew. I stare at the map spread across my desk, each red mark another ghost of his making. My pulse doesn’t slow. Because if it’s not Rafael... Then it’s someone using his name—and they know exactly how to break me. Amara knocks once and steps in. No crown, no armor. Just her—barefoot, calm, dangerous in her softness. She sees the papers scattered and arches a brow. “Still at war with ghosts?” she asks. I force a smile. “Just cleaning up what’s left.”

"Don't argue and tell me where it hurts!" Amor showed the legs and arms that were scratched by sharp tree trunks. "Good grief!" thought Reg. He was surprised to see her. This is a lot. How could a girl he likes hold him back? "I'm sorry," said Rega regretting his carelessness. Amor shook his head quickly. "No! It's my fault, I didn't pay close attention to the road." Rega winced seeing the state of Amor's arms and legs, while Amor who saw him could only sigh. Didn't he already say that it wasn't his fault? Why is he so stubborn?

She had not been able to say goodbye, nor had she been able to talk to Lyle since before they spoke with Christos. Amaris got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She turned the light on and closed the door. As she walked by the mirror she saw writing on the mirror that simply said 'Sorry'. Amaris froze looking at the mirror. "Anna!" was all she could get out. Anna came running in to the bathroom in a flash. "What? What is it? Mari?" Anna said putting her arms on Amaris'. "He thinks that all of this is his fault." Amaris said. "Is that why I can't feel his emotions? Is he cutting me off?" Anna looked like she was confused. "What do you mean that you can't feel his emotion

Damian pointed toward the signature. "Because Bako wouldn't hide behind my father's company." A pause. "He'd use his own." The room became quiet again. Because the logic made sense. Very uncomfortable sense. Amara stepped closer. The signature was elegant. Confident. Almost artistic. But the name itself was impossible to read. Deliberately impossible. The kind of signature designed to conceal rather than identify. She frowned. "Can we trace it?" Damian nodded slowly. "Probably." A pause. "Which means they already know we eventually will."

"That's ...not your fault! I'm the one who messed it up by getting angry. Rather, I'm thankful you believed in me!" Amara walked off, seemingly unconvinced. I bowed towards Hagihara-san and Kenichi-san to hurry after her. "Well, then goodbye Ken-san, see you tomorrow Hagihara-san!" "O-oh!" Ken-san nodded and Hagihara dipped his head. I thought Amara was still pissed so I didn't know if it was a good idea to overtake her while following, she suddenly spun around on her heel and walked back towards me. She reached out her hand, eyes pinkish.

Her voice cut through the chaos sharply enough to silence several people immediately. All eyes turned toward her. Amara walked forward slowly, her expression tense. “That footage is manipulated,” she said firmly. Mother Superior narrowed her eyes. “You know this how?” Amara hesitated briefly. Too briefly. And Christiana noticed. “She knows something,” Christiana whispered. John looked toward Amara with confusion. But before anyone could question her further— The projector glitched violently again. Then another sentence appeared across the screen. TRUST NO ONE. Suddenly— The emergency doors slammed shut by themselves.