Silent Voice X Face Novels & Stories

They had no faces, just smooth, reflective ovals. Their limbs were elongated, tapering to needle points. They didn't walk. They hovered inches above the ground, moving with eerie, frictionless grace. There were six of them. Silencers. The Architect’s elite guard. They glided toward me. They didn't speak. They didn't roar. They emitted a pulse of antisound. I felt it hit me. It wasn't just quiet; it was a dampening field. It wrapped around my mind, trying to smother the fire in my blood. It felt like being buried alive in wet sand. "You want silence?" I asked the lead figure. I flexed my wrists. The black wires holding me didn't snap. They evaporated. I vibrated my molecules so fast that the

Blind once more. But my chest felt lighter. Somewhere in the silence, Xireth’s voice echoed one last time. “Well done, Clarissa. You have faced yourself and not broken. Go on.” And so I did.

a voice called, distant but familiar. I didn’t have the strength to respond. My eyes fluttered shut as the darkness took over. Finally, silence.

No, it's someone! With his eyes that can barely see the person standing in front of him, blocking his sight, he slowly raised his face desperately looking at his face. ‘I can’t see him!’ the guy exclaimed to himself feeling the sudden fear as the guy in front of him suddenly lowered its body to level it to him. “P-philip?” Obviously, the guy was confused after seeing his classmate who is supposed to be dead right now. “Hello Vincent,” the Philip guy said and slowly touched the guy’s chin to make him face him even more.

He blushed as he was congratulated. One spectator from afar didn't like any of it. "Fast. Ingenious. Tsk. But he's still deaf. He's useless."

The previous playfulness disappeared from his face as he sat frozen on his soft side, not even moving a bit. His prolonged silence thumped my heart as if it challenged me to correct the mistake I made unintentionally. However, I had no idea what I did wrong. So, taking a safer route, I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. That was when Cassian finally broke his silence. He grabbed my wrist, catching me off guard. “No!” he said, his voice rough. “You can’t ignore me like this.” My heart leapt to my throat as my eyes flew open, only to find shadows of darkness clouding Cassian’s features. He narrowed his dark eyes and said,

Despite my injuries, I intercepted him, tackling the massive vampire to the ground. We rolled, each trying to gain the upper position. Malakai was stronger, but my True Alpha power helped me match him. That left The Silent One. He stood perfectly still, watching everything with those empty ancient eyes. Then he opened his mouth. The scream that emerged wasn't sound, it was a weapon. Sonic waves rippled through the air, visible distortions that shattered stone and cracked bones. Kael, closest to The Silent One, took the full force of the attack.

Another way to show me that my life was entirely in his hands? "Stop," he whispered. I stood still, my chest heaving. The silence of the garden seemed to stretch, taut and expectant. "On the count of three," Silas said, his breath fanning across my cheek. "One. Two. Three." He snapped his hands away. The sudden influx of light made me squint, my eyes watering as they struggled to adjust. But as the blurry shapes began to sharpen, a deafening roar of voices shattered the morning quiet.

The metallic sound punctuates the silence like a gunshot, making me flinch despite myself. She plants her back against the door, lips tight, one finger raised to her mouth in a fierce, silent command: "Don't make a sound." The intensity in her eyes sends chills down my spine—not the familiar warmth I've known all my life, but something primal, ancient. Her gaze holds the weight of a thousand unspoken warnings. "Mom?" I mouth silently, the question forming on my lips without sound. She shakes her head once, decisively. The message is clear: *Silence is our only shield now.*

Chapter 74: Echoes of a Name Xander’s POV I used to think silence was a kind of peace. But in the past twenty-four hours, I’d learned otherwise. Silence could be rage. Silence could be grief. Silence could be the scream of a soul unraveling. Emma hadn't spoken since the photo. She hadn’t cried, either. She just folded into herself, like something small and soft curling away from a storm it couldn’t outrun. Even in sleep—if you could call that rest—she shivered beneath the covers, her fingers twitching like they remembered pain even if her mouth refused to speak it.