Shattered Dream Sans の小説・ストーリー

And I did not know what to do. I let my dark energy flow through me, unleashing it on the practice dummy in front of me. Shadows lashed out, tearing through the straw and burlap, shredding it into pieces. I did not stop. I kept going, pouring my fear and frustration into the attack, watching the dummy crumble under the assault. "Sage." Cass's voice cut through my focus. I turned to see him standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at the remains of the dummy, then back at me. "You have ruined that dummy down to the dust. Is that not enough, or do you need another one?"

She cried for the dreams that had been shattered, for the illusions that had been torn away, leaving her with nothing but a hollow emptiness. When the tears finally subsided, Elara was left with a heavy sense of resignation. She had to face the truth—Cassia was right. She would never truly be part of the family, no matter how hard she tried. She would always be an outsider, someone who didn’t quite fit.

Chapter 184: The Shattered Moon Selena’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, its light dim and eerie as if reflecting the turmoil brewing among the packs. I had spent weeks pouring over ancient texts and relic fragments, trying to piece together the warnings hidden in their cryptic verses. The dreams had started after Veyron’s defeat—haunting visions of a moon-cracked and bleeding light, surrounded by chaos and fire. Each dream was more vivid than the last, leaving me gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. I had dismissed them at first, thinking they were the remnants of my guilt and trauma. But the symbols were too specific, the messages too insistent.

what was that? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to recall the dream, but the images were scattered, disjointed. Blurry. Except for one. A woman lay on the ground, her hands and legs bound. A man loomed over her, gripping a baseball bat. And then— Crack. I jolted, my breath hitching. My stomach twisted in knots. That wasn't just any dream. It felt real. Too real. Was it a memory? I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Was I... was I the woman on the ground? And if so, who was the man?

This time, I let him stay. No promises. No definitions. Just presence. I wasn’t ready for love again. But I was ready for peace. The Final Line Healing isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself with a finish line or fanfare. It comes in whispers. In steadiness. In the absence of panic. In the knowledge that what broke you will never be allowed to break you again. I am Elena Hart. I have been betrayed. I have been broken. But I am not done. Not yet.

Saraphina replied. She pressed her palm to the ground. Gold light spread outward in a slow circle. The nightmare shuddered, then unraveled, dissolving into harmless mist. The woman collapsed, breathing hard. “I dreamed this when I was a child.” Saraphina swallowed. “He is pulling from old wounds.” Lucian’s sword flashed as another shape lunged from the dark. He struck cleanly, not cutting flesh, but severing the thread that held it together. It vanished with a sound like a sigh.

The memory was a shard of glass in my heart. “What we had?” The words were quiet, but they cut deeper than a shout. “You mean the years you let me believe I was broken, while you knew the truth? The art you stole from me? The child you murdered? That’s not a marriage, Vincent. That’s a damnation.” "It was a misunderstanding! It was all Sophia’s plan!" Vincent sobbed, tears and blood mixing on his face. "I already made her pay! I made her life a living hell!"

she snapped her fingers dramatically. “You’re already a problem, Lola. Just not the academic kind.” She flipped her braids like a diva. “Exactly. Balance is the key.” The fan above us groaned as it turned slowly, like it too was tired of this routine. I let my eyes scan the room. Desks were scattered with wrappers and books half-unpacked. Chalk dust floated through slanted sunlight. Everything looked familiar and slightly drained. Like we were all waiting for the real term to begin.

I didn’t faint. I shattered.

What did she mean by the thing that was going on between the both of them? Why wouldn’t you tell me, Lady? That was his last thought before he was finally able to drift to sleep. However, Sane had a dream. The dream screamed familiarity, but he couldn’t point out why it was familiar. In that dream, he was in a room surrounded by red roses. There were roses even on the ceiling of the room. There was also a big mirror that stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling itself. In the dream, Sane slowly walked towards the direction of the mirror, but instead of seeing himself, he saw Seleen, staring down at him with her pair of black eyes.