Infernal Calling Novels & Stories

"[ GoDS MusT ComeBacK ]" "[ThE CounciL MusT RevivE ThE GodS ]" "[ TheY ArE Us! TheY MusT ExisT ]" "[We OF ThE CounciL, MusT SavE The GodS]" "[We MusT SavE The OlD GodS]" "[ ThE ArE RottinG, ThE ArE DecayinG ]" "[LeT ME Go! LEt Us GO! ]" "[ PaiN, AgonY, OblivioN, EternitY.... I Want To DiE ]"

**The following night**, the earth split again. But not from magic. From **underneath.** A faultline tore open east of the Highlands. Black mist bled from it thick, choking, bitter. And rising from the depths came a sound no one had heard since the Age of Flame: **The Calling Horn of the Forgotten Gods.** The Firstborn reappeared at the edge of the camp. “They’re not dead,” it said, eyes hollow. “Merely... waiting. And now, they’ve smelled the child. They want to shape her. Just as you have.”

“Further.” Ianthe leaned forward. “What’s north of Solaris?” Eryx shrugged. “Mountains, old ruins, and ancient temples.” Seraphine gasped. “The old oracle sites?” Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying—” Rian whispered, terrified, “The Primals are calling for you.” The entire cabin went silent. Alessia’s eyes darkened. “The Primals,” she repeated. “Yes,” Rian said. Solaris, Lunaris, and Noctis. All three. They’re summoning you.”

“I don’t need to win on your terms, brother. The demons have offered me a power you could never understand, one beyond your pathetic sense of loyalty and righteousness.” Olivine raised his hands, and as he began to chant in a harsh, guttural language, the air in the cavern thickened with a dark, oppressive force. Shadows swirled around him, coalescing into a writhing mass that clung to his body, twisting around his arms and legs like living tendrils of ink. A sickly green energy crackled at his fingertips, pulsing with each syllable that fell from his lips, his voice growing louder, a crazed fervor behind every word. “Demons of the Abyss,” Olivine summoned, his voice echoing unnaturally, as

" The voice which tormented Calypso in this scene is known as? A ) Lucifer B ) Her father, Asmodeus C ) Temptress, the great Unknown D ) The Grim Reaper Whose little temple exists in the Carnival Of Night? A ) Death atol hall B ) Bidding hall C ) Magic Night hall D ) The hall of Temptress, the great unknown

I bow before the Door that divides the World of the Living from the World of the Dead. “Ahhhhhhh”, I shouted when it burnt me. “STOP IT...STOP WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING TO ME. AAAAAAAHHHHHHH’, I screamed loudly and down on my knees while I held my hurting head. ‘With humble gratitude, I ask that it be opened. Aperi ianuam. Aperi ianuam. Aperi ianuam. Aperi ianuam. Unholiest of Spirits, we offer thee a life for a life! O mighty Dark Lord. Vita est vita. By whom all is set afire, thy power be thy path, thy will my desire. Vita est vita. The Hounds invoked.’’

His dark aura pulsed like a black sun, casting an eerie glow across the tomb. Around him, the spirits of the seven deadly sins—Pride, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Lust—gathered in eerie harmony. They spoke in hushed tones, plotting their next move. They were powerful beings, ancient and destructive, planning to break the barrier that kept them from entering the world of the living, from entering the Christ—the realm they could dominate. "Time is running out," Nihil's voice echoed through the tomb, chilling and commanding. "We must act swiftly. Once we break the seal, we can bring this world to its knees."

The very foundations of the jagged peaks seemed to groan in agony as an ancient, dormant power tore itself from the bowels of the earth. ​"The blood has been spilled," Val whispered, her spear trembling in her grip as she stared into the yawning, pitch-black mouth of the catacombs at the far end of the cistern. ​From the dark abyss, a cacophony of shrieks rose—not the mindless, starving cries of Ferals, nor the disciplined silence of the Shadow-walkers. This was a sound of ancient, ravenous malice. It sounded like an army of the damned clawing its way out of purgatory.

So he built a fortress between realms, Eidolon Academy, fashioned from memory, magic, and mourning. But Vaerion did not stay. With the last of his strength, he bound his soul into the very walls, creating a sentient, ever-shifting castle designed to: Summon godbloods once per century Protect and train them And one day... prepare them to reclaim what was lost 🕯️ The Calling Once every 100 years, a subtle magic ripples across the realms, known as The Calling. Those with slumbering godblood feel the shift: Dreams of fire or drowning in stars

That night, when she finally curled beneath her sheets, the silence was deafening. And in that silence, she let herself feel. The grief. The hatred. The deep ache of betrayal. And the terrifying pull she had begun to feel in the pit of her soul—like something ancient was calling to her. Searching. She didn’t know his name yet. But she could feel him. The one whose voice now haunted her dreams. The one whose presence made her blood sing. Her true mate. Darian’s POV Somewhere, in the darkened corners of the world, he was waking. Restless. Furious. Moving. She closed her eyes, heart racing. It had begun. The war. The unraveling. The reckoning.