Light: A Gone Novel Mga Nobela at Kwento

"You were just enough." He shut his eyes at the words she had said, and when he opened them again, they were blurry. "Thanks for coming back." "I wasn't alone." They did it that night. They stepped out into the deserted streets. A promenade. No where. No spree. No lie. They passed by a bookstore. Lily paused. "Can we go in?" Vandaulf smiled. "Go ahead." The scent of yellow pages enveloped her like a roll of cotton. She ran her hand over the spines.

My beloved portraits—the ones I carefully chose, hung, admired every single damn morning—they were GONE. Not just missing. No, no, no. They had been annihilated. Shards of wooden frames littered the floor like the remains of a massacre. My portraits. Destroyed. Crashed. Pulverized. Gone, gone. Do you know what I mean by “gone gone”? Like, the kind of gone where angels weep and demons laugh? Yeah. That type of gone. My chest seized up. I nearly forgot how to breathe. My soul left my body, went outside, bought cigarettes, smoked two, and still didn’t come back.

I used to be a renowned reporter at the height of my career, but I gave it up to become a stay-at-home dad so I could support my wife, Sarah, in her rising career as a news anchor. Things went downhill fast after our daughter was born. Sarah constantly forgot to pick up formula and neglected our baby, and I kept finding evidence of her ongoing affair with her colleague, Mark. When I went back to the station to apply for my old job, Mark went out of his way to humiliate me. Even when our daughter ended up in the emergency room, Mark did everything he could to make things difficult for us. That was the last straw, and I decided to strike back. During a live broadcast, I exposed their affair

He only clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. Once they were done with Sonia's prenatal checkup, they went to the mall to buy a ton of baby supplies before having a lavish dinner as well. The moon was high in the sky when they finally got back to Fontana Estate. The house looked cold and empty. The household staff had already retired to their rooms for the night. In the past, I would always leave a light on for him and stay up in my room, patiently waiting for him to return. But tonight, the entire house was dark, including my room.

CHAPTER 133: THE YEAR ZERO The "Lagos-grit" had taught me that the past isn't a solid thing; it’s just a story we tell ourselves until someone with a bigger eraser comes along. I watched from the disintegrating bridge of the Vane-Absolute as the world began to vanish. The white light expanding from the Forbidden Zone Trench wasn't fire—it was a literal "Undo" command. It moved with a terrifying, silent grace, swallowing the jagged ruins of the Spires, the neon-soaked streets of the Rust-District, and the oil-slicked waters of the harbor. Where the light touched, there was no rubble, no bodies, no history. Just a blank, silver void that looked like an unwritten page.

The sound was filled with suppressed pain, echoing in the empty study before fading into a deeper silence. The flickering candlelight cast his shadow long and twisted against the wall, like a wandering ghost. The young general in the painting still looked back atop his horse, eyes bright and innocent to the agonies of the world.

Then I went limp. Alessio caught him before he hit the floor. He cradled Noa’s head, breathing hard. “Noa,” he whispered. For one fleeting moment, there was warmth. The familiar weight of him in his arms. The faint rasp of his breath against Alessio’s collar. It was enough to make him believe. Enough to almost make him forget the alarms and the ruin around them. Then the lights died. Darkness didn’t just fall, it swallowed everything. A faint, unnatural glow began to spread. Alessio’s gaze dropped and froze. The light wasn’t coming from the walls, or from some emergency system.

Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair. It was not until the next day, when Rebecca walked by my room, that I started to snap out of it. I picked myself up off the floor. I had someone clear out the room. Silently, I moved to the desk, my eyes landing on the dusty family portrait. There they were, Rebecca and Nash. Her smile was so bright that it hurt to look at. Outside, the sky was a menacing shade of gray. I set the photo on fire with a lighter, and I watched in silence as it turned to ash.

I don’t remember the elevator ride down. I know I must’ve taken it, because one second I was standing outside a door that had just closed in my face, and the next I was out on the pavement, cold air biting at skin I hadn’t even realized had gone numb. Let's pretend this never happened. Let's never contact each other again. I kept repeating the words in my head, over and over, hoping that eventually they’d make sense. They never did.

April's POV I hacked into Alex's Internet and I continued to do my report. Time passed with me lost in writing the report. My stomach roaring made me realise I was very hungry. I stood and walked to the kitchen hoping to find something to eat, anything. It was at night already and I had completely forgotten about dinner but it was normal for me to forget to eat. I did not think Alex would be okay with me getting in his kitchen to eat something because apparently he did not like 'sharing' but I was hungry. He was so ridiculous.