Ruins Dust Sans Novels & Stories

"I'm downstairs, right below your office. Let's die together, and the Goddess will let us be reborn again. I won't make the same mistakes next time, I swear!" I walked to the window and looked down. Sure enough, there was Damien. He was in a wheelchair, but his legs had been fitted with mechanical prosthetics. "You're insane," I said calmly. "I'm not insane! I've never been more clear!" he cackled. "Wait for me. I'm coming up for you right now!" Ten minutes later, my office door was smashed open. Damien stormed in on his mechanical legs, a silver dagger clutched in his hand.

Blake didn’t scream. That was the strange part He just stood there, frozen in the middle of the living room, staring at the blank laptop screen like it had personally betrayed him. The city lights outside his window blinked calmly. A scam. The word echoed in his heart slow and heavy “No,” he muttered “No this does not make sense.” He refreshed the page again and again. Different platforms different logins. Same results. “This website does not exist”. His fingers trembled with panic, fear.

I walked away from the workstation, my boots echoing softly, and went to the large, grime-streaked window at the far end of the warehouse. Outside, the Ruins were a landscape of skeletal steel and broken glass, illuminated by the sickly orange glow of the city’s distant perimeter lights. Rain had begun to fall again, a fine mist that clung to the windowpane, blurring the jagged horizon. It was a world in pieces, much like the one we were standing in. I felt Dante’s presence before I heard him. The air behind me grew warmer, the scent of rain and iron and something uniquely him wrapping around me like a shroud. He didn't touch me, not yet. He just stood there, watching the same broken world I

Damn it, everything was ruined. Clyde leaned over her, his lips brushing her ear. “Answer her,” he whispered, then slowly rolled his hips, grinding deep. “Wh…what?” Zinnia whispered shakily. “Answer. Her.” Clyde commanded. “Y-yeah… I’m just… mmmh… grab… grabbing snacks. Be out in a minute!” Zinnia's voice came out breathy and shaky while Clyde thrust in with each word. “Are you okay?” Thalia asked.

I stood there for a moment, watching his retreating figure as he disappeared around the corner. Why the hell is he like that? Is it just his sense of humor… or is he actually mentally deranged? “I think it’s the other one.” I turned abruptly, startled. “Huh?” Nessa stood there, arms crossed, one brow raised like she had been there longer than I realized. “I think my cousin is mentally deranged,” she added dryly, “but what do I know?” I blinked at her, caught off guard. “I didn’t mean to say that about him. Just that…” I trailed off, unsure how to finish without sounding worse.

“And I’ve decided I like giving you things that don’t require anyone else’s approval or a company acquisition to arrange.” “It’s crooked,” I said, “in at least four places.” “I’m aware,” he said. “I’m choosing to call it rustic.” I laughed, and let him pull me down onto the blanket he’d spread across the old stone floor, the glass ceiling above us fogged with humidity, the plants long gone wild without anyone tending them in years. “Vivienne wants to help now,” I said, settling against his chest. “Truly help, not just survive the fallout of everyone else’s decisions.”

They sensed what lay ahead—the old death, the ancient curse, and the awakening dark. Aria dismounted and pressed her hand against her mount’s snout. “Stay. If we don’t return by dusk, run west. Don’t look back.” The wolf growled low, reluctant, but obeyed. Then the group advanced. --- Eldralen: City of Dust and Bone The ruins revealed themselves slowly, like a corpse rising from its grave. Broken spires jutted from the earth at jagged angles. Stone buildings stood partially collapsed, overgrown with black vines and moss that whispered in the wind. Every surface was etched with time and war.

the voice said. Then the image — Violet had blond hair now, cropped and precise; the red suit she wore cut into her as if the fabric were armor. Her eyes were thin knives. The girl who once laughed at small things and hid scars under loose sleeves was gone in the way that rain removes dust, she had been cleansed into a different weather.

The Weight of What Remains There are moments that split your life in two — the before and the after. You don’t always see them coming. Sometimes they’re quiet, slipping in on an ordinary night. Sometimes they arrive with the sound of a door being kicked in and a gun going off. Either way, when the dust settles, you realize the person you were before no longer exists. I’ve lived through more of those moments than I care to count.

“Then we stop being predictable.” She turned north, toward harsher land. Silas frowned. “That’s barren.” “Not empty,” Seren replied. The terrain grew steeper. Wind cut sharper. This was where certainty stopped investing effort. No supply lines. No leverage. Perfect. As dusk approached, we found the ruins. Stone foundations half-swallowed by earth. Old fire pits. Faded marks where people once gathered without banners or Speakers. Mael ran her fingers over a carved symbol. “What is this place?”