Fingers Of The Mountain Oblivion Mga Nobela at Kwento

I checked all of my weapons, making sure they're in place. I scan the tunnel once again. Still no one here. *** 11.59 My hands starting to sweat, my senses heightened to the point where I can even hear a mouse moving at the end of the tunnel. The glow stick is starting to lose its glow. I checked my watch again for the hundredth time in the last minute. *** 00.00 "Hello, sister." ***

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 The mountain air turned into a physical blade as the clock struck midnight. The light in the valley shifted from the dull grey of twilight to a stark blackness and was cut only by the green and copper luminescence spilling from the valve house windows. The subterranean roar of the water changed its pitch entirely; it grew louder and heavier; a deep, vibrating bass note that traveled straight through the soles of Lucian’s ruined Italian leather shoes, up to his shivering legs and into the marrow of his bones.

**THE MOUNTAINSIDE - NEARING THE AERIE** The climb was brutal. Loose scree shifted treacherously underfoot. Jagged rock tore at gloves and fatigues. The thin air burned lungs. The image intensifiers revealed the world in stark monochrome, the thermal overlay showing only the faint residual warmth of small animals and the oppressive, cold bulk of the mountain. Winters moved like a spider, silent and unnervingly sure, finding handholds and paths invisible to the others. Harlan followed grimly, Mack covered the rear, his breathing labored but steady. Reynolds, pale and trembling, was secured on a makeshift sled Leo hauled with grim determination, the tracker clutched in his free hand, its green

“Because if Evelyn was right, the Crown’s true heart lies somewhere beyond these ridges. If we don’t reach it first, the Archons will.” Ronan spat into the snow. “Assuming the mountain doesn’t eat us before they do.” The ground trembled faintly beneath them like a deep pulse from within the mountain itself. No bird called. No wind dared whistle. Just that hum, rhythmic, old, alive. Kael stopped walking. The vibration pressed through his boots, up his spine, until it touched the back of his skull. The mountain is breathing. He closed his eyes and for a heartbeat, he saw flickers: a great door carved from obsidian, symbols etched across it like veins of fire. A voice whispered his name, low an

The mountain peak where Zephyr Khan was located was locked onto by the finger. Countless cracks appeared on the mountain peak, like a spider web, spreading in all directions in a hurry! Rumble! For a moment, countless broken boulders rolled down from the surroundings. As if the celestial body had collapsed, the river of stars reversed. It was just the power of a finger, but it could swallow and move, just like a catastrophe between heaven and earth. "What kind of power is that?" Such a terrifying destructive power had attracted attention of the distant disciples. Looking at the cyan finger above the air, which was like a wild dragon, unstoppable, everyone's faces began to change rapidly.

Somewhere in there were the answers he needed, and so his feet followed the narrow strip of naked earth among the giants of root and leaf. Dark, hidden eyes watched from every egress, waiting patiently. Bones, human and animal, lay scattered among faint rust-brown stains and pitted black scorch marks beneath heartless rockslides. The mountain knew nothing of forgiveness, of mistakes, or of second chances. The master let his hands touch their skin as he passed, feeling their gentle spirits soothe his own. For this was their world as they stretched toward the light they never saw yet sensed, and he must do the same, open up his other senses to sound and aroma, and listen very carefully to ever

As soon as we began ascending the mountain, a blindfold was placed over my eyes. The village chief said that the god favored pure eyes, so I must not see the spirits of the mountain. Otherwise, I would be rejected. With my vision taken away, my other senses sharpened. I could feel the uneven ground beneath my feet, and the music behind me seemed to seep into my bones, intruding everywhere. The air, once thick with the scents of village smoke and cooking, was now cold and empty. I clenched my hands tighter as the pain in my palm seared.

Demon-slain Finger -- Smashing the mountain and river with the second finger! Demon-slain Finger -- Scaring all the gods and ghosts with the third finger! Demon-slain Finger -- Shaking the sky with the fourth finger! Rumble! The enchantment of the Ice and Snow Clan trembled, and the ground cracked. The entire temple collapsed and turned into ruins. Four terrifying giant fingers fell toward the Son of God with unparalleled killing power.

My breath didn't drift; it hung as visible frost in the pressurized vacuum of the cabin. The mountain is pulling him apart. And I can only hold on with one hand while the other reaches for the void. I sat paralyzed between two collapses. To my left, Leo had gone rigid. Not with peace, but with the terrifying stillness of a vessel being filled with too much lead. Beneath my right hand, Kael’s heart was no longer a beat. It was a chaotic, stuttering tremor. The necrotic poison was reacting to the mountain’s call, mapping a network of violet agony across his skin.

His eyes swept over the sacred ceremony as though the mountain air belonged to him. To compare with his last visit, Sombra Azul's ambiance didn’t simply come alive —it woke, like an ancient creature stretching from centuries of slumber. Blue lanterns lined the dusty path, flickering like restless spirits and the entire mountain range throbbed with faint drumbeats— primal and ancient enough to stir fear in the bones, but not for men like them who had murder in his eyes. He flicked a finger and they rippled around for the order. “No gunfire unless I say so,” he murmured. “Find him.”