Nihil Novi Sub Sole Novels & Stories

Darkness then swept forward, seizing me like a tidal wave. Unseen POV Isabel shifted in the cellar, her lips parting as if to speak, but the drug kept her still. Beyond the racks, an unseen presence lingered, silent and patient, watching and waiting. From the top of the stairs, the figure watched with a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Below, Blake Rasta teetered unsteadily, the pack’s infamous drunk, eyes wide and unfocused. A soft whisper floated down, urging him forward.

The ancient despair washed across creation like a relentless, suffocating tide, drowning the instinct to survive. Aurora staggered, her silver aura flickering like a dying candle. The Architect dropped heavily to one knee, her complex mathematical frameworks shattering into static. Elias struggled to draw breath, and even the luminous heart of the Source trembled. Nihilus wasn't launching an assault. He wasn't wielding cosmic fire or shattering dimensions with raw force. His mere existence was enough to unravel the tapestry of life. He was the First Ending—the ultimate belief that nothing mattered, the absolute certainty that every single story should end before it even had a chance to begin

"Fayyim, if you want to inform us all about what you have found out about the Nova Sublimia?" "Of course. I have found, with the help of Nikki, that Nova Sublimia is probably a new group based on the principals of the old hunting parties organized by the Vatican. But I cannot say that for sure, I haven't uncovered how the power structure within the organization works or if they are active in other parts of Europe. It's simply too soon to know more, we haven't detained any other hunters and the only thing we know for sure is they are well trained, organized and have scientists on their team. I have several agents looking into the matter as we speak and we should learn more the coming days." F

“Solana, Illac, and Foire have been notified of your little detour in humanity's border. Didn’t I tell you to stop it already?” said Nerissa. She is Solana’s little necromancer, usually, werewolves never trust a necromancer, they can be as a trickster as a fox or as sly as a vampire.

The bed, and other assortments in the room being to hover, their eyes roll in the back of their head and the fluid in the chalice beings to disappear… Nirvana is the village that is granted to the noblest of humans. There are no whore dins or any fornication happening out in the public, though it still has its criminal element. The hydralisk guards march through the streets of the village like they owned the very ground that they walk on. The one who helms the platoon is none other than Valyn himself. The guards spread out to cover the back allies’ ways where there are small hovels and apartments. Two guards for each place of living. The hydralisk that is in charge of the living spaces pulls

His movements were economical as he placed the documents on the polished surface and gestured for me to sit beside him. Close. Too close. Near enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, despite the late hour. Near enough to notice that his eyes weren't simply blue-gray but had flecks of something darker around the pupils. Near enough to realize that the severe, untouchable Killian Vale was, in fact, human after all. His cologne hit me first—clean and expensive. Not overpowering, just a subtle note of cedar and something else I couldn't identify. Then the quiet sound of paper sliding across the table.

Natascha defiantly meets my gaze. "And who handed over the folder ?" Strano asks. "The little witch, Soleil”. She replies triumphantly. "The little witch, Soleil”. Strano repeats. “Isn’t she unique. Imagine that a cow has got the shovel under the big Lefu Pusscat. It's poetic, oh so very poetic”. I do not move a muscle. Deep down, my naive heart is broken and once again filled with the black, bitter bile, which had always before flowed thickly in my veins.

"Nova's latest target was Julian Roth - a whistleblower from Eastern Bloc intelligence. He was found unconscious. No marks, no drugs, just... broken." "What does that mean?" Clara asked. "Mentally fractured," Riven said. "He now speaks in verse. Keeps repeating a phrase over and over." Elodie slid a paper forward. "The fire only loves what cannot burn." Mirabel's brows furrowed. "Poetry as programming?" "No," Bella said quietly. "It's devotion. Nova's using psychological triggers - rituals, language, symbols. She's not just creating a following. She's reshaping identity." Xavier looked across the table. "What's the endgame?"

The voices intensified as a beam of light lit up Jeremy on a higher stage. The rhythm he played started soft and slow but little by little the drums intensified. When the symbols crashed, a platform rose onto the stage with Kyung Jiho on it. Hae Mina grinned when she saw the white slivers light up under the black lights. On the back of Kyung Jiho's shirt was his name and on the arm was the Nightide emblem. The drum's symbols crashed and the next instrument joined. One by one, Nightide appeared on the stage with their parts. Hae Mina knew this was not her song to come in on because she had never been given a part.

Now they were laughing like two old friends who hadn't seen each other since last winter. Something had changed. And whatever it was, I had the unsettling feeling that I was about to find out. Alastor walked forward and shook Roland's hand. "Glad you're here," Roland said before gesturing towards the pregnant woman. "You remember my new Luna, Shirley?" New Luna? The woman stood, smoothing one hand over her heavily pregnant stomach before smiling at Alastor. "Hello again, Alpha Alastor." Again. There was that word for the second time tonight.