Novel & Cerita Glaring Through Oblivion

All I can see is the fiery blaze in those unholy orbs. Shrill screams pierce through the vision and the hazy cloud lifts from my mind and eyes and a rush of images hit me it’s like everything I have ever read and seen plowing and piercing my brain all at once – an overload of information. Yet the screaming carries on, the sound horrifying and distraught. The high-pitched noise is coming from me, and I can't stop it from sounding out.

He repeated the word as though he was reciting it as a mantra. Arriving at the deserted grave, he puts on the glasses. His vision cleared away the former surroundings which led him to the only grave in the graveyard. Though amazed yet he was horrified. He removed the glasses and saw a lot of graves but as soon as he puts the glasses on again be sees only one grave and no soul in sight, not even a plant.

The Architects' murmurs were drowned, swept aside by a single deep resonance. The corrupted numbers stopped, their advance spasmodic and bewildered. They recoiled away from the golden radiance, which was incinerating their shadow-forms with a searing explicitness. "He's fighting them!" Gloria panted, amazement in her voice. "He's fighting them using the raw energy of the Lode!"

I exclaimed. I heard someone calling my name. Someone off in the distance. I whipped my head up, surveying the world around me. All it did was fall into darkness. Slowly, the creeping nothingness swallowed up colors. Shapes. Sounds. My eyes widened as the road disappeared. I looked up, watching the stars get swallowed whole by the hellish expanse of Vantablack around me. I kept backing up until my legs touched the mangled guard rail. I felt the piercing, heated shards dig into my skin while the flames themselves were put out by the nothingness that surrounded me. Then a piercing sound ricocheted through my ears.

They thought the darkness was their ally. They forgot that shadows don't disappear in the light. They just get longer. I gripped the black glass blade and the obsidian key. "Time to wake the ancestors," I whispered.

Elara The silence after the storm is louder than the storm itself. I don’t breathe for what feels like an eternity. The ground beneath my feet is a graveyard of what once was—a wasteland carved by my fire, blackened and cracked like shattered glass. The sky above is no longer sky; it’s a gaping wound stitched with trembling threads of shadow and light, bleeding color into the void. And me? I am standing in the center of it all, glowing like a god, burning like a sun, and feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

Gloss POV The void pulsed. It wasn’t darkness anymore, not entirely. Streams of data ran like rivers across an unseen ground, silver light flickering and stretching into infinity. Every breath I took shimmered in the air, bending around invisible code. Adrian stood at the center, half human, half static, his body flickering between pixels and shadow. His grin was carved in mockery. Dream moved beside me, his stance rigid, eyes burning with cold rage. The system around us trembled, glitching in waves like it was fighting its own existence.

But before I can shake off the unease, my left eye catches something out of the corner of my vision. A flash of yellow. If I am not hallucinating, they are yellow glowing eyes, piercing through the dark corner ahead, which is clouded by trees, making it difficult for the moon to penetrate. I freeze, my heartbeat spiking. Slowly I turn my head, my pulse hammering in my throat, and I see it clearly now—a pair of eyes, staring back at me from the darkness ahead. I swallow hard, my breath catching in my chest. My mind spins in disbelief as a figure emerges behind those glowing eyes.

I blink. Nothing. I blink again. Still nothing. Are my eyes even open? Looking around, everything is just black. No shades, no tones. No gradients. Just black. There are no lights to beckon me, no family to welcome me. Just a deep, never-ending darkness. I’ve changed my mind. Oblivion isn’t sweet. It’s unnerving. Wow. All the cultures that have gone before? They were all wrong. There are no jackal-headed gods waiting in a desert; no feasts in mighty halls; no Elysian fields or impatient ferrymen.

My jaw clenched so hard it hurt—pain shot through the side of my face. I forced the words out through gritted teeth, tearing them from my throat: Get… out… of… my head. But the command only burrowed deeper, tightening its grip. The light intensified, pressing against my eyes, my chest, my spine, searching for any weakness to exploit. End the vessel. My whole body spasmed and convulsed. My knees slammed against the cold stone – or what felt like stone. The light had consumed everything, making it impossible to see. My fingers scrabbled at the ground, sending sparks of white light flying from beneath my nails.