Noir The Primordial Black Novels & Stories

I can feel myself blacking out as black spots cloud my vision. Just as Psych is about to grab a hold of me I hear what sounds like bikes pulling up. Psych runs over to Jesse, who is bleeding from her head, and helps her up. I catch a glimpse of Melissa lying unconscious on the ground near the kitchen and when I look back over to Psych he and Jesse are peaking out of the holes on the boarded-up windows. "Shit, the Warriors are fucking here. How the fuck did they know where we were?" Psych says hysterically.

The child died. Nocté surfaced, and clouds of steam rose into the air. Pulling the dress over her wet body, the girl wandered back to the castle. The rest of the night was spent in nightmares that brought with them the appearance of a dead newt – crabs crawled out of the torn belly, clicking their claws. They devoured the dead flesh, and gray moths landed on the newt's eyes and mouth. The clicking grew louder until Nocté woke up. A day was breaking outside, gulls were screaming loudly, waves were beating noisily against the rocks. The air smelled like freshly baked bread. For the first time in forever, Nocté felt hungry. [1] Chaos — primary state of the universe, the formless totality of mat

“I am the Primordial hybrid! I cannot be killed!!! I am the thing that makes lesser men quiver in fear.” “I'm well aware that you cannot be killed Kaden, that was a mistake I made the last time we fought. Then I didn't have a weapon to put you down with, but now I do.” Ymir spouted with a wicked glint in her eyes. She brought out a blade made of bones. I knew what it was, that was the blade made by agony. “This is the blade of Agon. It won't kill you but it would incapacitate you, leaving you in a lucid state so you can live through the pain. Now, I have the weapon I need to fight against you.” Ymir sneered, her eyes turning into pure darkness.

I have a feeling that this beast has already mastered to command the distortion. --- A dark light ignited aback, from something… Its body is blackened in shadow and the outside is all light, emphasizing its thin shape- silhouette of an unknown object affixed and standing by the ground. Another Arc appeared near to where Niru is standing, at his back facing side ways unlike the other two arcs; upper and lower arc. At the center of the arc is a hole, and an eye peeking into it. It whispered to itself. ‘’What happens now isn’t according to the plans of my Master.’’

The Shape of What Watches The flicker did not brighten. It did not fade. It simply… remained. A pinprick in the endless black above Moonscar. Not silver. Not gold. Not even light, exactly. More like the memory of light — a distortion where something had pressed too close to the fabric of the sky. Nyxara saw it first. Her breath caught mid-inhale. “Don’t,” she whispered. Kaelion followed her gaze. His body went rigid.

A sound that had once terrorized gods. The witches of the Order screamed. “NO—” one cried. “THE SEAL—” The tree collapsed. Falling inward, not outward. As if being swallowed. And from the darkness that opened, a colossal shape began to rise. Taller than any wolf. Broader than any beast. Eyes glowing a burning, infernal red, brighter than blood, deeper than hell. Black smoke coiled around his body like living chains unwrapping. AURA. The Primal Wolf.

A deep, subsonic hum echoed through the walls—the same hum they had heard in the Harvest Room. "He’s here," Sybilla whispered, her face turning pale. "The Primordial has found the Zero Point." Suddenly, the viewing port shattered. It didn't break inward from the pressure of the ocean. It dissolved into a thousand shards of black glass. A figure stepped through the vacuum—a man dressed in the matte-black armor of the Firstborn, but his eyes weren't violet. They were gray. The flat, matte gray of Silas Vane. Silas didn't use a weapon. He raised his hand, and the "Frequency" between Dante and Ivy was suddenly hijacked.

Clarke *** PROLOGUE . . . I N T H E B E G I N N I N G, there was nothing but nothingness itself, with no time. No reality. No matter; except for the pre-existing primordial state of the blank universe. No light. An endless void of total darkness.

They aren't 'Remembering' the 'Founders'; they’re 'Re-Cycling' our 'Original-Friction' to 'Fuel' the 'Galaxy-Standard'. Dominic Thorne stood beside her, his "Vantablack-Indigo" energy now a "Universal-Anchor" for the "3026-Grid." He looked at the "Luminous-Variables" below, his "Ice-King" gaze now a "Sovereign-Watch" over a millennium of "Equity." He felt the "Source-Code" of his own "30-Day-Contract" being "Broadcast" across the "Centauri-Link" as a "Creation-Myth."

And now, it was waking up. A crack appeared in the sky. Not gold. Not silver. Black. Pure black. The darkness split reality open. Everyone stepped back instinctively. Because something was looking through. A single eye. Massive. Ancient. Impossible. Larger than entire worlds. The eye stared into existence. Watching. Studying. Remembering. Nova's heart stopped. Not literally. But close enough. Because the moment she saw that eye, every memory inside her reacted. Every soul. Every possibility.