Steins Gate Light Novels & Stories

The starboard engine was ticking over at nine hundred RPMs, barely producing enough steerage way to keep the Bertram’s bow from falling into the trough of the waves. Down in the companionway, Stacy stood behind her father, her fingers holding the frame of the cabin door. She wasn't looking at the response boat; she was watching the yellow halogen lights of the Fowey Rocks Lighthouse flash through the rain every ten seconds—a rhythmic, mechanical reminder that the earth was still there, solid and unyielding, beneath the shifting chaos of the water.

A good well in the centre of the town. “It looks empty,” Serakha whispered. Lucian narrowed his eyes. “No. There – see the light in the tower. Weak. But it’s there.” They began their descent. --- By the time they got to the first stone gate of Estel Crossing, the light was already long gone behind a huge layer of clouds. The air was cooler, and the wind murmured in low voices through broken shutters. They passed under an arch, which remained standing but whose carvings faded and blurred – a sun, a river, a wheel.

The empty whispers were once again heard roaming around the scene. John at this moment raged and forcefully punched the gate with all possible energy he could gather and with an aggressive yell. As he saw, a bright light it was, a bright light that was seen after the gate. It wasn't a steady one although, it seemed like an unstable energy as it moved in various directions. The gate that was broken lost its balance and got swallowed into the light. John, who had his left arm over his eyes to prevent the littlest fraction of light from blinding him, dropped his hand as he walked closer towards the gate. Behind him was a staircase where individuals had died before him was unexplained.

I said, my voice steady and clear. As if responding to my words, a low hum resonated from the towering structures erected near the Northern gate. A shimmering light began to coalesce at their zenith, growing brighter with each passing moment. The soldiers, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief, watched as the light transformed into a series of focused beams, aimed directly at the advancing horde.

We reached the Circle’s gates on the third day. By then, the silver veins in the sky had thickened, no longer faint streaks but jagged rivers of light cutting through the clouds. Even in daylight, they shimmered, making the world feel like it was under glass. The gates themselves were old stone, carved with runes so deep the shadows clung inside them. They hummed faintly—not the slow, steady hum of warding magic, but a sharper vibration, like something constantly being adjusted and recalibrated.

Something I had seen on TV crossed my mind, I really hope it works. I picked three stones and ducked behind Tabitha's Jeep, the security guard was walking around the gate warily, holding a flashlight and a wooden stick. It was full moon so the environment was lit up perfectly and the flowers were glistening under the moonlight and swerving gently in the night breeze coming from the river at the other side. I threw the first stone across the pavement into the garden, the guard's head snapped up Immediately, he looked around sharply and then calmed when he didn't notice anything unusual.

They crept forward until the trees parted into a clearing—and stopped. There, in the center of the glade, stood a massive stone obelisk. Cracked and covered in moss, it pulsed faintly with purple light. Around its base, symbols were carved deep into the rock—some recognizable, others not. A ring of bones circled the structure. Elias stepped closer, examining the carvings. “This is a gate marker.” Serena frowned. “Not a full portal?” “No. More like a… message board for the Gateborn. This is where they regroup. Leave signs.”

"She deserves better than this." What Peter doesn't know, what none of them realise, is that the Goddess has plans of her own. As the sun begins its descent toward the horizon, marking the approach of the ceremony, ancient magic stirs within the pack lands. The Claiming Stones in the ceremonial circle pulse with energy, preparing for a revelation that will shatter carefully laid plans and force long-buried truths into the unforgiving light.

The sting of his slap faded as his grip loosened from the pain, and the moment my feet hit the dirt, I tore down the final path toward the light. He lunged after me again, but his boot caught a hidden root beneath the snow, sending his massive frame crashing into the shale. That single second was all I needed. The golden light belonged to a stone villa tucked against the ridge. I threw my weight against the reinforced timber door, pounding the iron ring against the wood. “Help me! Open the gates!” The echo ran through the valley. The rogue’s footsteps were already recovering behind me, his shadow stretching across the stone porch. “Keep knocking, girl! Let’s see who dares cross a paid blade

Massive waves crashed against jagged rocks below while storm clouds churned overhead. Lightning illuminated the horizon. Not white lightning. Silver. The same silver that lived inside the gates. The same silver that flowed through my blood. A city stood beneath the cliff. Ancient. Enormous. Half submerged beneath the sea. Its towers rose from the water like the bones of something long dead. And at the center stood another gate. The Third Gate. Larger than Blackthorn's. Larger than the desert gate. Its surface glowed beneath the storm while hundreds of figures moved around it.