Obsidian Fragments Novels & Stories

[Obsidian Veins] The smell of scorched flesh and ozone was so thick I could taste it on the back of my tongue. I looked down at the surgical tray, where a jagged, bloody mess of bone and muscle had been replaced by a gleaming, predatory limb of dark obsidian and silver-tech. Dante hadn't just survived the surgery; he had sacrificed the last of his human warmth to become something I could no longer recognize.

The darkness swallowed me again. Obsidian Crown Citadel The Obsidian Crown Dominion was not a pack. It was a kingdom. A myth made stone.Black glass cliffs rose thousands of feet on all sides, reflecting moonlight like a thousand shattered mirrors. Geothermal springs steamed in the snow, hot enough to melt perfect circles around them, their sulfurous breath curling upward like incense. The citadel itself was carved into the caldera of an ancient, dormant volcano towers of polished obsidian spiraling upward, gold veins running through the walls like lightning frozen in stone. Every surface gleamed diamonds and rare gems set into doorways, chandeliers of black crystal and enchanted blue fire ha

I pulled him into my arms, sobbing with a relief that felt like a physical weight. ​"I got it, Mom," he wheezed, looking up at the empty sky. "I hit the mark." ​Liam and Rowan joined us, followed by the forty-two Echoes. They looked up at the stars, which were now just stars again—cold, distant, and silent. ​But as we stood there, Rowan reached down and picked something up from the grass. It was a shard of the obsidian ship that had survived the implosion. ​It wasn't a piece of metal. It was a small, glowing data-cube. And on its surface, a single name was etched in a language that hadn't been invented yet.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 The square did not explode; it dissolved. What Maya had mistaken for the inert remains of a defeated army; the drift of salt-white ash suddenly betrayed its true nature. It was no longer debris. It was a billion microscopic shards of obsidian glass, animated by a singular, hungry intelligence. It didn't strike with the clumsy weight of the earlier models; it moved with the capillary action of a spilled ink, wicking into the fibers of their wool cloaks and seeking the porous vulnerability of human skin.

Jax said. His loose pants dropped to the ground next. He kicked them aside. “What matters is what the ritual means.” Theron let out a quiet laugh as he watched us. “You two look very eager,” he said. “But honestly, I understand.” He had already removed his clothes and taken his place beside the fire bowl. “Did you both bring your crystals?” My palm opened. A small, flat disc of rainbow obsidian rested there. That stone had not been chosen by chance. Rainbow obsidian helped release pain that lived deep in the past. It helped the bearer break free from emotional chains.

As soon as the tip of the sword touched the inscriptions, cracks appeared all over the inscriptions of the Obsidian Body. The sword dissolved into numerous inscriptions which then fused with the Obsidian Bodyʼs inscriptions. Then, the Obsidian Bodyʼs inscriptions dissolved away. “It worked!” James’ face broke into a smile.

“You’re finally here. You made it.” She twisted a knob on the wall and smeared a droplet of blood across its surface, and a small carved space appeared in the wall. There, hovering above a pedestal, carved with celestial runes, was a shard of obsidian, small, jagged, and glowing faintly crimson at its core. The relic, forged in the cave of the gods, stolen by traitors, and lost to time. But now… Found. Ophelia reached for it. The instant her fingers grazed the surface, pain pierced through her chest, bright and hot, like a blade piercing bone. Her back arched as memories slammed into her skull.

It was so very Paul. Her gaze suddenly landed on a ceramic jar in the top left corner of the workbench. She pointed, "What's in there? May I see?" A flash of hesitation crossed Paul's face, but he quickly responded, "Of course." He then handed the jar over to her. When she opened it, her eyes widened. Inside, she saw it was filled with small diamond fragments, some with colors that didn't turn out right, others with imperfect cuts. Some were too large and uneven, while others were too small, affecting their beauty… Altogether, there were well over a hundred fragments.

Steady. Bathed in the slow, rhythmic indigo pulse of the Moonstone fragment suspended in its containment field above the obsidian desk. The shard was hot—not hearth-warm, but forge-hot. Sulfur and ancient lava. Pressure without mercy. The air around it felt heavier, as if the room itself were being forced to kneel. Phoenix adjusted the holographic scanner. Light lines unfolded, mapping the crystal’s internal lattice. Four pieces. The geometry was absolute. This indigo shard was only the base—the grounding element. Without the heart, the crown, and the anchor, it was nothing more than a loaded weapon.

Luca answers, “Not much, I wanted to let you know that the gem samples you gave us produced some interesting results. Mia is thrilled.” “What kind of interesting results?” “Particularly with the obsidian stones. There is a protective energy that we can isolate. We are trying to figure out how we can pull that energy out and channel it. We think it could potentially produce a shield.” “That’s amazing.” “Yeah. That’s why I’m calling. Mia is showering right now, but she asked me to call to see if we could potentially get a larger sample of obsidian. We want to try to create a shield. Of course, we would provide you with all results and show you how to isolate it later, if you agree.”