On The Fall Of An Aeon Novels & Stories

Daylen wriggled free of our cute embrace and walked to the bar and poured himself a full short glass of whiskey then drowned half of it in one swing. “Orion isn’t a bad guy? Isn’t Alpheus the Blancus white you told me about? Look how that turned out.” I bit my lower lip. Fine not my finest moment. “Fine, are you going to tell me how you have a brother that’s a dark angel?” He drowned the remainder of his drink, but refused to meet my eyes as he spoke. “He fell from Paradis.” “What?” “It happens. Occasionally.” He still wouldn’t look at me.

You are one of a lucky person invited to participate in a FALLING GAME. GOLDEN RULE: ONCE YOU FALL, YOU LOSE. Rules: Exclusive for students of Oxford International School only. Any transferee or an exchange student must sign a contract to avoid ghosting or other problems. Don't kill other participants. You are allowed to harm anyone in the game but killing is a crime. No to inactive and have an absence issue. This is a couple game. Two absents are equal to removing in the game plus a punishment. Can do activities and attendance. Failure to comply means a punishment.

Ch-83 Before Orion could do something, he fell unconscious on his bed. People who came to ask his attention saw he was ‘sleeping’ and left. In Abigail’s chambers…. The woman who wore a red cloak and adorned the skeleton throne in the Witch Coven appeared out of thin air.

"Yes. You don't plan on starving again just to avoid us right? Okay Okay we won't put you in an hypothetical situation again. Just come with us." Monroe's begging softened Roy's mood. The gardener's of Amaryllis cleared the campus paths with gusto—occasionally asking students to steer to another side. Of course, for the Director to love trees more than anything, the campus grounds were found covered with aged leaves by the time Autumn passes. "Hey Hey! Isn't that Taylor Shaman?" Monroe pulled Ken excitedly and gestured at a boy not more than one seventy five centimeters tall—unique platinum golden hair and dressed very fashionably.

Her face was a mask of cold, silver-glass, and her hands were covered in the Black-Emerald circuitry of the Hive. "You have chosen the 'Too Much' energy over the 'Perfect Peace,' Darlene," she spoke, her voice sounding like a thousand pages turning at once. "So be it. We will see if your 'Authentic North' can survive the Weight of the Forgotten." She touched the floor, and the entire city began to Fall.

The fall through the Origin-Prime’s internal abyss wasn't a physical drop; it was a Data-Degradation. As Zane, Kael, and the Twins plummeted away from the bridge, the white marble and liquid light of the "Master-Code" stripped away their textures. The fur that had felt so real in the Sovereign Valley was now a flickering grid of grey polygons. The heat of Kael’s mane was reduced to a flat, blue hexadecimal value.

"He has, but you blocked him. And he knows this mess is his fault. He's too embarrassed to face you." I fell silent, feeling conflicted. Even though Elliot had failed me, it felt bad to see him fall like this. At the same time, I knew this was the price he had to pay. He had chosen Yvette over me, and now he had to face the consequences. "Where is Yvette?" "Rumors say Sorothspire, but we don't know which country. The police are still looking."

Everything went black. Selene’s breath hitched as they plummeted into the depths. Her heart raced, pounding against her ribs like a drum of war. The ground beneath them gave way, pulling them deeper into the very heart of the storm that Elara had unleashed. Her vision blurred from the fall, the world around her spinning in dizzying chaos. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing Kael’s arm, anchoring herself to him as they fell further into the abyss. Kael’s grip was firm, but there was a sense of urgency in the way he pulled her closer, his face tense and strained. The darkness surrounding them seemed to close in, swallowing them whole, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and

Falling was not an action. It was a surrender. The white corridor shattered into fragments of light and glass, breaking away beneath Ronan’s feet as if reality itself had decided they were no longer worth supporting. Kiera screamed his name inside the mindscape—raw, panicked, endless—and the sound ripped through him harder than any physical blow. Ronan tightened his grip around her without thinking. The world tilted. Then dropped. They fell through layers. Not downward in a straight line, but through—past rooms that peeled away like half‑remembered dreams. He saw flashes as they plunged:

He never finished as Aeon punched him in the face with her left hand. He stumbled back, blood all bus squirting out of his nose, an astonished look on his face. She, like the actual Techs, didn’t give him a chance to recover. She came at him again, swinging her leg to kick him in the side. Adro fell down, hitting the ground hard. He tried to unattach his gun from the holster, however, Aeon’s boot came down on his arm before he could. She had his own gun in his face in less than a second. “Pew!” Aeon imitated the sound of a gun shot in the most childish way possible. “You are now dead. Go back the exact same way you came, you are disqualified.”