Steins Gate Novels & Stories

It appeared that Count David had grown tired of gazing at my disdainful expression; at last, he uttered, "Unbolt the gate and extend a warm greeting to our visitor." At his command, the soldiers standing behind him swiftly sprang into action. A mystical incantation echoed through the air, and the resounding clocks and clatters of the metal gate reverberated around us. The seemingly fragile city gate, when viewed from the outside, revealed itself to be over a meter thick. The gate was a curious blend of natural wood and enchanted steel, with only the initial few inches crafted from the former and the remainder fortified with the latter. [Reinforced Metal II]

But tell me, what do you know about the entrance to Gormley-Stuarts palatial gaff? 'It’s palatial - drive is 120 metres long and has eight centimetres of French rounded granite pebbles on it, with an electric gate that is activated by some radio-controlled device in her car.' He drew breath to continue. 'Whoa Charley. How do you know so much?' 'Larissa regularly bullies Vera into lending her labour to smooth her pebbles or paint the gate. I’ve done both this year.' 'How many cars do they have?'

The house we hid within was on the main road, one leading straight ahead to a set of towering gates. Two pillars topped with a sun and moon sat on either side of the gates. The entire thing was made out of some kind of strange stone. There were veins of silver and gold embedded in the iridescent material. As the moonlight hit its surface, the colors within shifted and glowed. I’d never seen anything so beautiful, even if there were a handful of pale-eyed sentries pacing back and forth in front of it. “The sun rises in the east,” Azrael said, a wistful light sparkling within his eyes. “These gates were built to honor that, while the western ones honor the sunset. It’s been such a long time si

But as soon as they smelt the air and caught of whiff of different scents, they all looked up and saw me walking in front. “Okay let’s start with the gate shall we, there are many regulations that come with housing the hounds and the security which needs to be in place to keep everyone safe. This gate is not a standard one that we would use in our daily life, it’s made out of solid steel and a mixture of tungsten. It’s built to withstand the sheer weight and power of the hounds. Alban, kick this gate as hard as you can.” I began to explain pointing over to the huge metal gate which stood in the centre of the hounds and I, when I took the roll of looking after these animals five years ago, I

Hayley stood in front of a towering iron gate, easily over ten feet high, grand enough to feel like the entrance to a fortress. Even the guard booths looked like military-grade sentry posts. But there wasn't a single competent guard left inside. Her gaze settled on one of the booths with its door hanging open. The main gate was still locked, but the booth door was broken. Both the front and back booth doors had been wrecked, and one of them was hanging halfway off its frame.

Greaves said while closing his folder. He looked at me the way he always did before negotiations began. It was the silent request for control that had followed me through four years of assignments with him. Please hold yourself together. Cold air drifted through the open door carrying the scent of pine and something deeper beneath it, something warm and unfamiliar that caused the strange pressure in my chest to lean toward it before I could stop the reaction. The gates came into view. They were iron and ancient, set into stone that curved along the ridge as though the mountain itself had grown around them. Wolves had been forged into the arch above the entrance, their bodies frozen mid strid

I was the bridge, and the bridge was starting to crack under the weight of their egos. “We have reached the first station,” Hala said, pointing ahead. Through the thinning mist, a massive structure began to loom. It wasn't a tower or a palace. It was a gate—a colossal archway made of black obsidian and white bone, reaching five hundred feet into the grey sky. It was carved with the images of a thousand wolves, all of them kneeling before a central figure who had no face. The Gate of the First Abandonment. At the base of the gate, a figure was waiting.

Moana’s POV The secondary gates were massive, twin slabs of ancient mountain oak that had been iron-shod by Lana Vance’s newly organized forge crew. They stood at the throat of the middle tier, a vital line of defense that separated the residential quarters from the outer cattle pens. For a decade, passing through these gates meant enduring a screeching, metallic protest that signaled to the entire valley that someone was moving between the worlds of the privileged and the damned. Now, as Eldrick pushed the heavy left timber back with a single, casual press of his palm, the gate swung on its fresh oil-slicked hinges in absolute, ghost-like silence.

Wulstan’s voice echoed back from absolute nothingness. “Below the foundations,” Osbert answered, his tone nervous. “Below the water table, which I would like somebody to explain to me at a later date.” Then the floor levelled out, the lamplight found the far wall, and every one of us stopped dead. It was not a door. Blackthorn’s gate is a door—iron-bound, forty feet high, and built to be admired on the way past. This was a massive slab of white stone spanning the entire end of the cavern, from the floor to whatever was up there, without a hinge, handle, or seam anywhere on it. Cut into its face in a single continuous line was a spiral of characters winding inward and inward, so small at the

The entrance was a towering archway of black stone etched with golden runes, half-buried beneath tangled vines and glowing moss. And at its center, a door. It wasn’t made of stone or wood, but of pure energy—shifting between light and shadow, bleeding into the air like liquid fire. The Gate. My marks pulsed violently, a heartbeat syncing with the energy ahead. The servants halted at the clearing’s edge, bowing low, as if in reverence. Aaron stopped beside me, chest heaving. “It’s awake.” Edward’s grip tightened on his sword. “Then we shut it down before it opens any further.”