Novelas y relatos de Oblivion

The air in the Underworld was different tonight. It was heavier, pressing down on my chest with every breath, as if the very atmosphere knew what was coming. Hayden and I had been hiding, waiting in this barren wasteland, but I could feel it in my bones—we were running out of time. The furies were close, closer than ever before, and the silence of this place only heightened the tension coiled within me.

With one final thought of gratitude towards her aunt for her unwavering support, Aqua surrendered to the darkness, allowing its gentle embrace to carry her away from the tempest of her thoughts and into the peaceful realm of dreams. As Aqua's eyelids drooped with drowsiness, the rhythmic patter of rain against her window lulled her towards sleep. However, her rest was abruptly interrupted by the sound of rocks clattering against the glass. Startled, she sat up in bed, her heart pounding with apprehension. Peering through the darkness, she made out a figure standing outside her window. It was Damon, his expression etched with worry. Aqua's initial shock gave way to concern as she hurriedly ma

Wallowing in guilt and shame will only set me back, but the reason the demon got out of hell was because another, more powerful demon was on a death mission. Stop it, I tell myself. This is exactly the type of negativity a demon would want me to fall into. I take a breath and look into the demon’s eyes. “Auferte malum elementa invocabo. Dimittie eam mitte erranti est ultra modum.” Evander’s head flops back and he lets out a yell. Yanking against the restraints, he jerks his head forward and back over and over, until Tabatha drops the bowl.

Though this new path added five more days to the trip, it was safer and smoother, better suited for Lyra, a fragile she-wolf who deserved care and protection. But that wasn’t the only reason. This path passed by a special place, a small cave deep within Gloomwood where Raven and Cara, who was now Lyra, had once lived happily together. Raven had heard that the Potion of Oblivion, the memory-erasing elixir Lyra had taken, wasn’t permanent. With the right stimulus, the memories could return little by little. He hoped the first ones to resurface would be the beautiful moments they once shared.

The man with star-born skin knelt before a colossal obelisk made of obsidian and bone, All around him, statues of forgotten gods stared without eyes, He lifted a tiny flame the one he’d taken. “She has bound herself. Foolish girl.” The obelisk cracked, From within it A shape emerged. Seven arms. No face. And a crown of fireflies whispering secrets, It spoke in no tongue but all who listened understood “The Equinox Flame lives Then it is time. Bring me… the Mother.” Liora woke in a cold sweat, bound to Auren by the hinge, Their souls hummed in tandem. She looked to him. “You did it,” she whispered.

Marcus, “And Roe?” I paused. Me, “He’s not Thorne’s security anymore. He’s their contingency plan. If Damon falls, Roe burns the proof.” Marcus, “Then we need a new one.” By midnight, the city skyline burned in cold light. I opened my backup laptop, loaded a new file, an untouched mirror of the archive. Hidden in a digital vault under a name Damon would never search: VALE/OBLIVION And next to it, a handwritten message I’d found in my father’s old chessboard, hidden under the Queen’s square. “Control is temporary. Truth is patient.”

The eastern dead zone lived up to its grim name. As Killian and the allied vanguard rode deeper into the jagged mountain passes, the vibrant green of the Blackthorn borders dissolved into jagged, ash-gray stone. Overhead, the sky wasn't dark with night, but thick with swirling, iridescent celestial clouds drawn toward the massive white marble monolith looming in the distance. The pillar of light shooting from its apex grew wider, pulsing in tandem with a heavy, low-frequencied hum that vibrated through the armor of every soldier.

"Calm down, soldier. I didn't come here for a fight. I came to offer Player 001 a choice." He stepped closer, hands folded behind his back, unhurried,, and started laying it out—that NexMind wasn't really the enemy, that the outbreak wasn't just a virus gone wrong. It was a filter. A test built to burn away the weak and leave only the strongest standing, and those survivors would inherit whatever was left of the world once the dust settled.

The descent into the subterranean void-river felt less like falling and more like being dragged through a grinding mill of liquid cosmic noise. The violet void-plasma roared in Caelum’s ears, a corrosive acid that hissed violently against the shell of Obsidian Eclipse fire he and Lyra had woven around their bodies. Every inch of Caelum’s muscle burned with agony, his silver scars flashing with erratic, blinding light as he fought to keep their combined aura from shattering under the crushing atmospheric pressure of the earth’s root.

The two dragons glided along for a few hours before Slate began to descend over a field in the territory of a kingdom closer to his own lair and far enough away from Beelzanborg that the soldiers who were clearly rallying to come after the Heart of Magic couldn’t reach them--yet. He touched down in a field of golden wheat, catching the sunbeams and sparkling like each stalk was made of a precious metal.