Oblivion Novels & Stories

POV: Julian Vane-Moretti The approach was silent, a low-altitude glide that felt like holding one's breath over a fathomless abyss. The "Blind Spot" emerged from the Mediterranean fog not as an island of rock and soil, but as a jagged shard of obsidian rising from the sea. It was a masterpiece of architectural camouflage, a fortress of reinforced polymer and smart-glass that mimicked the turbulent reflection of the waves.

"Hello, Aurora Sinclair. The Silver Queen. The one who defeated the Void King. I've been waiting for you. Waiting for him to weaken you. To break you. To make you vulnerable." "Who are you?" I demand. "I am the Void's creator. The darkness before darkness. The nothing before nothing. I am what comes before the beginning. And after the end." "I am Oblivion." The castle explodes. Reality shatters. And through the destruction, I see it. A being made of absolute nothing. Not darkness. Not void. Just the absence of everything. And it's coming for us. Coming for me. Coming to finish what the Void King started.

Liora asked, wearing a cold, icy smile one that bore a striking resemblance to the expression Mavric often wore when dismantling his business rivals. “Do you truly believe you have planned for every single possibility?” “What do you mean by that?” Lucas frowned, looking confused. “I began hacking into this system the very moment I inserted the sapphire key earlier,” Liora declared, delivering the blow with absolute precision. You were so completely focused on analysing my biometric data that you forgot to check the integrity of the system’s core kernel. Ever since my time in New York, I have been developing a specialised data-wiping virus I call ‘Oblivion’. Th

The Obsidian Spire ​The approach to the Relay was a gauntlet of synthetic perfection. The grass beneath Rhea’s boots was a uniform, genetically modified velvet that didn't retain footprints. The air was a stagnant pool of filtered nitrogen, devoid of the "sweetness" of the mountain or the musk of the pack. To a predator, this was a sensory desert—a place where instinct went to die. ​"It’s a dead zone," Marcus whispered, his hand white-knuckled on the hilt of his blade. "The closer we get, the less I can feel the bond. It’s like the spire is eating the connection."

I reply. I press my hand to the center of the binding circle, and the runes sink inward, folding space around the darkness like a closing fist. “Oblivion is not death,” I say softly. “It is irrelevance.” The last thing I feel from it is fury. Then… Nothing. The silence that follows is profound. It's not empty. It's complete. The world exhales and in that exhale, I feel them. Brynn. Frynn. My twin mates.

The island was doing its pre-dawn thing, the specific quality of dark that existed in the last hour before the sky began to change, the dark that was about to be something else. Lysander moved beside her. "There's one thing I want to say," he said quietly. "Before the panel." She looked at him. "The Covenant bloodline," he said. "The dissolution conditions. When the governance framework is restored the automatic revival of their standing." He held her gaze. "That standing doesn't only belong to Caspian through his mother's line." She held him. "The revival is community-wide," he said. "Everyone descended from the Covenant bloodline's community recovers their standing."

Her breathing steadied with every click. Control. Evelyn needed control. Outside the apartment window, people moved through another gray September morning, completely unaware that civilization was already dying beneath its feet. The interface pulsed quietly in the corner of her vision. CURRENT TASK STATUS:0/3 COMPLETE. CURRENT SURVIVAL RATE:3.7% Evelyn stared at the number. Then slowly reached for her keys. “Let’s fix that.”

The man froze. His face was hidden in shadow, so I could not make out his expression. However, I could see that his bright eyes were staring straight at me, as if trying to study my face. Theodore Jensen knew his reputation preceded him. Violent, ruthless, unpredictable, a man who slaughtered without batting an eye... Naturally, all of it was true. As for the last person who had seen him handle something personally, he had already been sent to the Southern Isles. Whether he was still alive was another question, but he was definitely missing a few organs.

“B-But they must not all be like that, there must be some who…” “I’ve never heard of a single rogue that hasn’t suffered the same fate, and I only know of one who survived it,” Lucian interjected coldly. “Her name is Jocelyn, and she only came out the other side because she found my brother Jace… they’re fated mates, but not before killing hundreds of our own and putting my mother in a fucking coma.”

He called it the Eternity Project, and a great wall of maurium was erected to denote the borders of the new capital, the east gate being sealed to prevent a returning to the old capital and its ruins, and all was peace in Altruon. Even so, a war is raging in the north against Obed, an old enemy of Altruon, whose people have fought them throughout their history. Though, in times of battle there is an opportunity for heroism and men of merit to rise in the eyes of the people of the nations they call home. One such man is a celebrated colonel, a man whose own descent is that of Obed. His name is Tyberion Ibori, and he is the father of a beautiful young girl who, in his absence, has become a blo