Steins Gate Novels & Stories

he responded to me as he returned his attention to his Nintendo game console. The car stopped and pulled over at a stunning white mansion. It was so beautiful. Nothing like I'd ever seen before in the city of New York. Edward must have just newly acquired this place. It seemed like he was just moving in too. The mansion had big see through gates circled all over it. The design of the gate was very rare and the color was mixed with shiny silver stones like rubies. The gate required a code and had a security camera right outside it. One of the body guards typed it in and the gates flew open, revealing a beautiful garden. The garden was well nourished and filled with different colors of roses t

The towering gates of the East Pack rose from the mist like ancient sentinels—blackstone laced with silver veins, pulsing faintly with enchantments meant to detect outsiders, and repel magic. The energy in the air shifted as Ava and Ashton approached, thick and oppressive like a brewing super storm.

And just before his body could go all out on him and take control from him, he’s already at Steve’s building and he’s inside. “What? How did he enter without us opening the gate?” one of Steve’s guards muttered. He knows who Adrian was, so he didn’t try to confront him. But his shock was that the gate was closed, and it’s made in a way that it’s almost impossible to jump through as it’s way tall. And also, he hadn’t heard any sound if not that he saw Adrian stepping into the building. “Master,” Steve muttered as he rushed forward. Just now Steve got a notification that indicates Adrian was in trouble. He’s set up this security system in a way that he’d get hints when Adrian was in trouble, o

No movement in the grass. The only noises broke from their own progression and the quiet melody of flame, seed, and the inward movement of the path. At midday, they came to something they had not seen before. A gate. No walls surrounded it as it lifted from the ash. It was simply a broad stone arch, reaching up as high as a tree, with the same spirals as the one on Renak’s stone. “This is it,” Arden said. “The Gates of Ash.” Lucian walked up and reached into his pouch for the spiral stone. The stone’s light grew soft in his hand, while it started to make a low, steady sound. The gate pulsed in answer.

The world spun. She hit stone—hard, unyielding. Her shoulder screamed in pain. The ruin they’d once seen from afar now loomed around them, jagged arches rising like ribs of a dead god. Between them pulsed the glow: a gate, vast and veiled, its light crimson, its surface trembling like the skin of a heartbeat. The Gate of Ashes. But the Tribunal had no intention of letting them reach it unscathed.

Bridge. Another turn. But eventually even her memory started slipping. Too many identical roads. Too many shadows. Too many deliberate routes designed to erase orientation. Hidden. Controlled. Untraceable. The realization settled coldly into her chest. Then the car slowed. Ahead, through the darkness, something emerged. A gate. Massive. Black steel embedded into concrete walls that blended so naturally into the surrounding terrain they almost looked grown from the earth itself. No insignia. No warning signs. No visible cameras.

As the echoes faded, the silver veins in the earth began to pulse faster, spreading outward like wildfire toward the Gate. The wind screamed through the gorge as Kaelen crested the ridge. The world below no longer looked like the valley he’d sworn to protect. The ground pulsed with veins of light, rivers of silver snaking between shattered stones. The air shimmered like molten glass, bending and breaking the rain into prisms. And at the center of it all stood the Gate—a colossal arch of fractured crystal half-buried in the mountain. Its surface rippled like water, reflecting skies that didn’t belong to this world.

At its entrance stood the monumental gate. Over sixty feet tall, it loomed like a fallen knight hammered into shape. Obsidian slabs, veined with rivers of gold, pulsed faintly as if alive—each breath of wind setting off glimmers that danced like trapped souls. The gold had been poured by hand from the blood of nations; the obsidian mined from the Tungsten Wolves’ veins. To touch the gate was to feel time itself hum. As the dragon approached, the gate trembled. Its hinges, older than kings, groaned open. The air rushed inward, heavy with magic and heat. Beyond it, the domain unfolded. A continent suspended in mist.

Behind us, the plaza moaned—distant drones dragging themselves out of rubble, sirens wailing in a broken loop, the ever-present hum of the dying city. Beside me, my skin still tingled where Corvin’s hands had been. My ribs ached under the fresh bandage. His warmth felt like an echo in the narrow doorway we’d just left. The almost-kiss clung to the back of my mind, unhelpfully vivid. “Okay,” Jax said, drawing in a breath. “So. Talking doors. That’s new. Does anyone have the cheat code?” “There’s no code,” Grant said grimly. “They mean it. You don’t get in unless the Gate’s fed.”

The massive steel doors were an anomaly, an industrial scar cut directly into the ancient, volcanic heart of Mount Meru. They stood twenty feet high, built flush against the jagged basalt, coated in a thick layer of yellow sulfur and centuries of subterranean grime. Above the seam where the two doors met, the faded, painted logo of 'Six'—a circle bisected by intersecting lines—stared down at them like a blind, mechanical eye.