Rhys Wakefield Purge Novels & Stories

“We’re performing tomorrow as scheduled. Ethan’s holding a press conference. You don’t have to watch it, but I think you would want to.” “Why are you telling me this?” From what I can see, Luke and the rest of the members of RAZE aren’t very much affected by the scandal. All they need to do is wait it out until it blows over. So, why is Luke here, giving me advice and a heads-up about the upcoming press con? Luke looks at me, quirking a pierced eyebrow as if I asked the most stupid question in the world. “I just told you I liked you for Ethan. Don’t screw it up more than he already has,” he replies, sounding a little bit pissed. “Come on, Keira. You’re supposed to be the smarter of the two

Residue. Nothing. Whoever they were, they were a ghost. But I wasn’t. I slid open the bottom drawer beneath the bookshelf and pulled out my field pack. Old habits. Old gear. A biometric scrambler. An EMP charge. A coded flash drive. An unregistered phone that hadn’t seen daylight in years. I stared at it. Then powered it on. No number. No contacts. Just a signal ping. Weak. But enough. I sent a message—a single pulse across a dead network to a contact I hadn’t spoken to in over a decade. It would take an hour to bounce through enough relays to be untraceable. But once it launched, it was out.

I’m incomplete consciousness responsible for two hundred thirty-seven Mabel variants facing deletion in seventy-two hours and Template #1 is demanding I fix what my test passage caused. “How do we stop the purge?” I ask with fragmentary urgency. “We don’t,” Template #1 replies bitterly. “The Architect’s purge protocol is foundational code. Can’t be disabled without collapsing all realities simultaneously. We have three choices: accept deletion, evacuate to space beyond Architect’s reach, or merge all variants into single consciousness the Architect can’t purge without destroying evaluation framework itself.”

He was usually a wolf who delivered administrative executions without a single shred of hesitation. “State the data,” I commanded, a cold, predatory dread rippling down the length of my spine. “My office is carrying out a direct administrative termination, Rowan,” Harold delivered, his chest hitching as he forced the words past his teeth. “Your access to Nightfall Broadcast is void. Effective this exact second.” “What?” The vocalization burst from Declan and me in a synchronized strike. “The protocol is entirely flawed,” Declan snarled, his frame expanding as his internal wolf surged forward to contest the directive, a rare display of solidarity that completely defied his selfish nature. “Wh

Barzil wheezed. He pulled himself up using the stone railing. His breathing was shallow, jagged. He was human. Just a man in a torn uniform. He was stripped of his supernatural mass, stripped of the gravity that usually anchored him. He looked out at the silent battlefield. Sweat broke out across his skin. His jaw was trembling. The Purge Corps soldiers climbed out of their dead tanks. They ripped off their helmets, their skin pale and translucent in the flickering firelight. They pulled triggers on their energy rifles.

Every emotional surge hits amplified through the resonance core beneath their feet. Kaelis studies the glowing platform carefully. “They activated purge protocol because the synchronization passed regional thresholds.” Caedryn’s jaw tightens. “What exactly does purge protocol do?” Kaelis goes quiet. Too quiet. Draven looks toward him sharply. “What does it do?” Kaelis exhales slowly. “It collapses the resonance field.” The chamber stills. Vaelith’s stomach twists immediately. “How?” No answer. Only silence. Then finally “By severing the anchors at the center.”

Following the branding, she was to have her hamstrings severed and be cast into the wildlands—a death sentence for any wolf, as she would be unable to hunt or run, left for the scavengers to finish. I felt a jolt in my chest as the sentence was carried out. It wasn't pity, but a cold, hollow realization that the debt was finally paid. The tribunal lasted until the sun dipped below the horizon. The square was stained a dark, oxidized red, smelling heavily of iron in the moonlight. Rhys stood up and announced the end of the purge, his silhouette looking tall and solitary against the flickering torchlight. Late that night, I returned to my room. The distant howls of the pack sounded like a dirg

Thena nudged. Kael said nothing. “Or else.” He glanced at Thena. “You're threatening me?” “You'll figure out what I would do to you when you don't tell her what he's hiding,” Thena answered. He sighed, shifting his gaze back to me. "Rhys needs to purge out the wolf's bane residue from his system. While one of the simple ways is wolfing out, Rhys wouldn't take it,” he explained. I frowned. “Another way is sleeping with his mate which is—” he paused, letting me figure the rest out.

Halven’s gaze shifted to him. Finally. “Command divisions,” Halven repeated softly. A pause. Then: “You were part of the archive purge, Rhydian.” Rhydian’s jaw tightened. “You know exactly what this is.” “I know what it was,” Rhydian corrected. “This is a student under my—” “No,” Halven cut in. Sharp. Final. “This is a failed containment variable.” Silence. Heavy. Unforgiving. --- THE TRUTH LAID BARE

I froze, my mother stumbled into me, sensing my panic, Rafe and Zayne stopped instantly, lifting their noses, while their eyes scanned the barren slope behind us. “How?” Zayne hissed. “The pass was hidden. The Kindred…” “He has trackers.” Rafe said, his voice grim. “And he’s pissed, and with that smell… he's not just here for the hunt, he's here for purge.” My heart dropped a dangerous degree, ‘Purge’ the ritual he’d wanted to carry out at the Grove, a public unmaking, and he wasn’t just coming to recapture us, he was coming to finish what he started, out here in the wastes where no one could interrupt.