Novelas y relatos de Oblivion

" Malakai smirked when he thought of the answer. "We're ghosts baby." Malakai responded and Eden wanted to laugh, but she was so confused at the same time. "Huh? The fuck do you mean?" Eden said and looked up to see a mischievous glint in her boyfriend's eyes. "I have someone, a hacker, his name is Rhys. He'd remove everyone's DNA, their information and everything there is about them off the systems of the world. When you joined the agency, he did the same. In short, we don't exist little one." Malakai said and Eden's eyes widened. She never knew the extent to which Malakai could go.

There were so many emotions mixed together that she couldn't even tell if it was anger, regret, or just wanting to let go of everything for some peace. One thing was certain though—the Netherrealm could wipe away memories from past lives as long as they took a sip of the Oblivion Draught and crossed Severance Bridge. No matter how intense the feelings from a previous life were—love, hate, whatever—they would all get erased. Never to be remembered again. Vexon could see all of this because the Mournglow River stretched out right in front of them. Under thick mist, the Severance Bridge floated in the water.

As he drifted off, the name of his beloved Luna echoed gently in his dreams, filling his heart with warmth and hope for their reunion. Alpha Valle walked through the hot morning air, feeling the sweat pouring down his body. He grumbled about the unbearable heat of the human world. “Back in Antarctica, heat was only used when it was really needed,” he grumbled to himself. “But these humans had to call up that blazing sun, making us all suffer.”

The storm over the Verdant Expanse raged with unnatural ferocity, streaks of silver lightning clawing through blackened clouds. Beneath its fury, the skeletal remains of Aeonspire Tower jutted toward the heavens like a broken finger daring the gods to strike it again. And at its heart, Evryn stood motionless, drenched in silence, her thoughts louder than the war above. She clutched the shard of the Inverted Flame, its glow pulsing to the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Each throb sent visions crashing through her consciousness: fragmented memories, alternate timelines, infinite versions of herself—some triumphant, others twisted beyond salvation.

, and through constructive life and experience, rehabilitate their mutated genetic codes, and rehabilitate their DNA. These non-human souls in human-type bodies were called the Anu-Melchizedek Leviathans. Unfortunately, the invading alien rebels took this opportunity to further their program of world domination. They realized that these organisms/DNA contained compatible genes and could be used to physically operate on Earth and control world affairs more directly. As a result, countless Anunnaki, Draconians, and compatible hybrids were born in these human bodies, but with a very different consciousness from humans regarding their poor emotional makeup, lack of compassion, but great mental a

The primal warriors were pouring into the valley, destroying everything in their path. And in the center of the fleet, on the largest ship—the Oblivion—stood the Forgotten. He was tall, with skin like obsidian, his eyes like purple fire. He looked up at Cole and smiled. You’re too late, he said, his voice echoing in Cole’s mind. Your world is already lost. He raised his hand, and a wave of primal energy shot out, striking the ledge. The ground crumbled beneath them, and Cole and the others fell.

The firelight cast their shadows on the wall—three figures bound by blood, fate, and the quiet hum of something greater than all of them. But deep underground, miles away, a lone signal pulsed in the darkness. A mechanical voice whispered through the static: > “Omega Protocol… active. Directive: Recover the Firstborn.” Lena stirred, sensing the echo even in her dreams. She tightened her hold on the child, heart pounding. Outside, thunder rolled across the distant horizon—the storm returning. And somewhere within it, the future began to move.

And each step feeling like you are crossing a battlefield towards the enemy that killed someone you love. Fenrir is silent, watching and waiting. I reach the vehicle, gripping the edge of the tarp, the fabric is rough under my gloves, and it is damp with years of neglect. For a second, my hand hesitates. Then I rip it off. The sound of tarp rolling through the yard. As I let the tarp collapse to the floor. And the monster underneath it finally reveals itself, the Collins - series Obsidian, black, massive looking like a predator itself.

They raised them to the sky, and from each obsidian edge, a stream of violet memory began to flow. It was a "Biological Counter-Strike." They weren't just fighting the Architects; they were "dirtying" the room with the truth of Lyra’s life. The air began to fill with the scent of the lilies, the metallic tang of the silver-dagger, and the rhythmic, pained sound of her first shift in the forest. Lyra’s "clean" expression flickered. She looked at the violet streams, her head tilting in a way that was almost human. The Silver-Eyed Kaelen let out a high-pitched, digital shriek, his silver skin beginning to crack.

Only the stillness of an open grave. Ellie’s signet ring didn't just glow; it shrieked. A jagged, pulsing crimson light radiated from the stone, casting long, distorted shadows across the grey dust. She reached out with her inner sight, trying to find the golden threads of the Alliance, but what she found made her stumble. The threads weren't just frayed; they were being knotted into intricate, suffocating patterns—the **Legion of Bone** was literally weaving the life force of the sleeping wolves into a shroud.