روايات وقصص ضمن Rift The Extinction Of Sanity

Rhea suddenly said, which drew my focus back to her. Rhea didn't look at me but kept her head down as we strolled towards the bus stop. "It's just that...," she said again, her voice weak and remorseful. "I panicked when I saw my mother faint, and I was texting you, so when I saw your name and number on my phone, I couldn't think clearly anymore and quickly called you. I... I..." "It's alright, Rhea." I quickly replied. "What you did didn't bother me, so don't worry. Instead of worrying about whether you bothered me, we should be grateful that your mother is safe and that nothing truly harmful happened to her."

Half a year ago, Sean Quinton had forced me to head abroad with him to the country where we'd registered our marriage. Our ship had veered off course and sunk in an uncharted area. We'd both choked on large amounts of contaminated water, leading to lung infections. Half a year later, we both lay in hospital beds and were on the brink of death. The uncharted area had turned out to be a wastewater zone—no one else had ever been there, so no one else had died because of this so-called lung infection.

I smiled at her words, "Let's protect each other then." ********************************** The Sanctrum Rift was in the middle of nowhere, a ruined land that barely had any plant or animal in sight. There were no trees or any sign of life either. April, Rowenna and I arrived standing at the boundary of the land. The place buzzed with magic and I could feel it. Both dark and heavy. "Do you sense the dark heavy magic? Is that from the sword?" April asked turning to Rowenna.

The whirlwind of turmoil, guilt, and regret all swirled within her mind. Rachel had sat here for hours without the slightest idea how much time had actually elapsed since she last checked her watch. Outside, the world had dulled to a gray haze, rain diffusing reality and fantasy. Her head was filled with visions of what had taken place during the last days. The look on Stephanie's terrified face when they took her away-when she and Vanessa dragged her away-stayed in her mind, awake or asleep. It was a memory that she could not shake, no matter how hard she tried.

"What's the catch?" Sarah's face went pale. "The ritual kills the person. The separation is so traumatic that the body can't survive it." I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. "No." "It might be the only way," Sarah said quietly. "No," I said again, louder this time. "We're not even considering that." "Tristan," Athena said softly. "No," I said, turning to look at her. "Don't you dare even think about it." "What if it's the only way to keep everyone safe?" she asked.

The refugees grew increasingly agitated, their trauma making them desperate for us to heed their warnings. "You don't understand," one practically screamed—a fae whose realm had dissolved into pure chaos. "I watched my family blur into each other, becoming one undifferentiated mass of consciousness. Is that what you want? To lose all individuality in the name of unity?" Through divine authority, I called for silence. The sanctuary stilled, all eyes turning to me. "We need to understand the exact mechanism of collapse," I said. "Not just the symptoms but the cause. What specific change triggered—"

Not white, not violet, not obsidian. It was gold. Is "S. St. Claire" actually trying to help them, or is the "Phoenix Protocol" a global suicide switch designed to destroy the Trinity and the world along with it—and as the station begins to self-destruct, will Dante choose to save Ivy's life, or the child that might be the key to their salvation? (Watch out for Chapter 127) 💬 Add to library | Vote | please leave a review | Gifts

Rhiannon's POV The camp was silent. Not the peaceful silence of early morning but the heavy, oppressive quiet that came after violence had torn through and left nothing living in its wake. I shifted back to human as I approached, my paws hitting ground that was churned to mud with blood—too much blood, the scent of it thick enough to choke on. The wards were shattered, hanging in the air like broken spiderweb, their magic dissipated into nothing. Kira lay three feet from my tent entrance. Her throat was gone, torn out so completely that her head was barely attached to her body. Her eyes stared at nothing, already glazing over with death.

The night stretched on. Two locations. Two heartbreaks. One broken family trying and failing to hold itself together. And the promise Luca had made to his dying wife hung over them all like a shadow that refused to fade. At Mia’s apartment, Sofia lay curled under the blanket, her body still trembling from the aftermath of the panic attack. Every few minutes, a fresh wave of tears would escape, soaking the pillow. Mia sat on the floor beside her, one hand gently stroking her hair, the other holding a glass of water she hoped Sofia would eventually drink.

They were nothing more than that–just dreams. I heard later that Yvette lost her mind after I left, and her family had no choice but to send her to a psychiatric ward. Jenkins Group crumbled without the White family's backing. Dad made sure Ethan was taken care of, permanently. Me? I ended up married to someone I felt nothing for. In the end, everything found its place, just like dust settling after a storm.