Requiem City Book Novels & Stories

They had no business on this soil. “F**k,” I hissed under my breath, my grip on Eliza’s shoulder tightening as she began to sob. The Gemini leaders moved like sharks through the edges of the crowd. The scent of them—cheap tobacco and gunpowder—seemed to cut through the rain. One by one, my men noticed. The mourning whispers turned into low, dangerous murmurs. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The fire finally took hold, roaring into the rainy sky. I watched my father’s body begin to dissolve into ash, the final transition from the man who built this city to a ghost.

Behind them, the city of Nova Luna glowed in the darkness, a beacon of defiance and hope in the center of the wasteland. The Covenant was sealed. Long live the Queen. [END OF BOOK ONE]

The wail of the sirens didn't just climb the eighty stories of the Blackwood Spire; it clawed its way up the cold, glass skin of the building like a living thing. It was a jagged, mechanical scream that pierced through the howling storm, vibrating in the very marrow of Elias Thorne’s bones. Below, the city of Chicago was a blurred mosaic of red and blue light, a hive of activity reacting to the bodies that had just rained down from the heavens.

Ahead, a yawning crack that had opened earlier between aisles—an ink‑filled void we’d been skirting around—began to close. Stone blocks rose out of the darkness one by one, like steps in an invisible staircase, locking together. Words bloomed across them as they surfaced: BRIDGE, SAFE, HOLD. Each block thudded into place with the finality of a period. The floor stitched itself into a path. A screen shard from the Admin’s body spun down, angling straight for Corvin’s head. Before I could move, the nearest shelf lurched sideways just enough that the glass hit wood instead, burying itself in a copy of NEON GRAVE CITY—HAZARD SUBROUTINES The book took the blow and burned from the inside, its text

[The Requiem of the Blood] The city of Siem Reap had become a clockwork nightmare. Under the shadow of the cooling ruins of the French administrative building, the world had fallen into a rhythmic, terrifying grace. The "Global Legion" was no longer a theory or a laboratory secret; it was a physical vibration that had seized the very air of Cambodia. The streetlights did not flicker; they pulsed. The wind did not howl; it hummed.

Kael caught her, his heart racing. "I... I just had to... mask the signal," she gasped. "Kael, the city... it's not just a place. It's a Harvester. Liora has the whole city synced to the same frequency as the Glass Cages. Every human here is unwittingly acting as a sensor." They reached the middle of the tunnel where Roric and the others waited in darkness. Roric held a discarded newspaper, his face pale in the dim light of the subway tracks.

"I almost wish things were different. That we were meeting under other circumstances. You would have liked me, before Dante destroyed everything." He poured himself another whiskey, raising it in a mock toast. "To Arabelle Moretti-Valerio. The Queen who doesn't know she's playing the wrong side of the board." He drank. "But you will soon enough. And when you do, this whole game changes." Outside his window, the city lights twinkled innocently. Somewhere in that city, Arabelle was probably celebrating her victory. Probably in Dante's arms, feeling safe and loved and powerful. Enjoying the calm before the storm.

A distant bell suddenly rang. Once. The endless pages overhead froze in midair. Then... every page turned toward the same direction. Something enormous was approaching. The ground trembled beneath Adrian's feet. Not with fear. With recognition. Far ahead... a city slowly emerged from the darkness. Its towers were built from giant books. Its bridges were woven from glowing sentences. Its rivers flowed with liquid silver ink. Above its gates, carved into black stone, were four ancient words. THE CITY OF FORGOTTEN AUTHORS.

I pee a lot, and smelling and seeing things that are sensitive to my body makes me puke. "Liam, just leave the poor girl alone." Sydney stepped in and pressed those breasts of hers on Liam's arm. "Come on. The book is a room. So we are going to have loads of fun." Loads of fun, indeed. "Just give me a minute," Liam brushed Sydney off, making her pout. "Lily, are you okay?" I scoffed.