Shoulders Of Unbreakable Demise Novels & Stories

Maroon should pour out beneath him, reaching out across the grey. Jasper's eyes needed to be wide and unseeing, unfocused, and dead. There needed to be a dent at the back of his head where his skull had imploded, and a stream of blood streaming down from his mouth. His shoulders had to be snapped back and his chest sporadically convulsing. Jasper needed to be the broken man, with his unbroken leg, shook, as he reached towards the man that Jasper had been once, before letting out an unholy, horrifying groan, falling limp, and unmoving.

variable—a value that was mathematically infinite. $$V_{emotion} \rightarrow \infty$$ $$\text{ERROR: } \text{OVERFLOW IN ROOT DIRECTORY}$$ The geometric shapes of the Overmind began to spin violently. The black liquid of the deletion stopped. Umbra let out a horrific shriek as his "Anti-Resonance" body began to dissolve into pure, white light. "You... you're breaking the machine!" Umbra gasped, his form shrinking. "We aren't breaking it," Elara said, her face inches from his. "We're Unplugging it."

I looked up at the ceiling, where the Iron Rain was still hammering against the gold, and I felt the last of my humanity—the ability to mourn—flicker and die. I was the 98% Mother. And I was finally, absolutely, unbreakable.

It's still there locked up in my safe, I could not do it, I could not throw it away, I could not crush it. I could only look at it remembering the good days, Remembering the painful memories. How my world broke apart, how the only thing that was a source of light left, how it perished. How she Left me in the Time I both needed her. And I was so broken, could not reach out for her, and I had to struggle to get to this point, to get to this heights. I'd given up those years. Given up those painful memories. I'd forgotten everything.

CHAPTER 112: CROWN OF THREE POV: RHEA SONG OF THE CHAPTER: MY DEMONS BY STARSET (ACOUSTIC) ~~ (MOMENTS BEFORE THE DREMARI DIES:) The wind is too quiet. It’s the kind of stillness that only comes after something sacred has shattered. The kind that hangs heavy in your lungs, tastes like copper and grief. The Dremari lies on the stone altar, more shadow than substance now. His form is flickering each breath a struggle, each movement like smoke curling in reverse. The crater around us glows faintly, the remains of his protection spell still etched in the cracked ground.