Nihil Novi Sub Sole Novels & Stories

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

Nelanian ripped it open and read the name scrawled in calligraphy. 'Assassinate Mr. Starkridge by the 20th of this month.' It was stated. Nelanian remembered who he was at that point. "I am Zegrath Void, The Necessary Evil and Keeper of Darkness, the hundred and seventh to hold the title," he said in his brain as he descended the hill.

“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 bullshit I feed people, I swear! Lucia, amore mio (my love*), stay here with me. Do not go with these strangers. Cazzo.(fuck*) I am pathetic. I do not even want to share her with kids anymore. My answer seems to disappoint her, and she returns to her guests. Once she is out the door, I listen and slide my desk chair toward the large bay window. Ah. Perfect. I can hear everything Lucia and her guests are talking about. I will never tell her that the sun is to represent me. I want the sun to be on her chest, near her heart.

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.

“The Collapse Weaver. You wove reality, Jessica, but it is flawed. Your hollowness is my triumph. Surrender, and reality ends in peace. Resist, and it burns in chaos.” Kade’s roar was a desperate cry, his claws slashing at Nihil, his love for Jessica a fire that burned through his pain, blood dripping from his wounds. “You’re not taking her! We’ll tear you apart first!” Nihil’s form pulsed, and the loom flared, weaving a vision that broke them: reality dissolved, the nexus ash, their bonds erased, Jessica’s hollowness consuming her, her companions’ screams fading into silence. The vision was a certainty, a future where love, hope, and existence were nothing.

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?"