The Light Novels & Stories

The only things that match exactly are the two machetes in leather scabbards hanging from their waists. Lights is the oldest male Miracle, born the day after Radar. His real name is Javier. He’s a slender guy of Mexican descent, just a couple inches taller than me, with olive skin and longish black hair he keeps cut short in the front to keep it out of his yellow-gold eyes. His eyes were dark brown until his Power appeared several years ago, when they turned golden. His Power, as his nickname suggests, is light. He can create balls of light with either hand, or shoot a beam of light from his eyes. As he’s gotten older, he’s learned to control the size and the brightness of the balls and beam

★★★ BLUE MOON PACK ★★★ Damon’s mother, Light, was basking in the peaceful moment as she watched over the pup. He was a sweet little boy, no more than three years old, his tiny body curled up in sleep, his breathing soft and rhythmic. Light’s once troubled eyes, now calmer and filled with a nurturing warmth, softened as she brushed a strand of hair from the pup’s forehead. This child, whom Damon had taken under his wing, had become a light in their lives—a reminder of innocence amidst the darkness they often faced.

" Wow...I'm short of words with what I just heard. So...the light that shorn out of me was me activating my shield. Wow...just wow... Just to confirm I got it right about the light of a thing, I asked if the shield was the light. "Yes, dear, that was your shield and something else." "What's that mother?"

The scent of Elena's signature vanilla candles filled the air, mixing with the aroma of the Italian food. Clara bounced out of the bedroom they shared, eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "Oh my God, you're actually him. You're actually the coffee shirt guy. This is wild." "Clara!" Claire hissed, mortified. "What? I'm just saying, you're taller in person than in photos. It's actually kind of impressive." Clara stuck out her hand with confidence. "I'm the smart sister. Claire's the pretty one who throws beverages at wealthy people."

He entered the club designed with different types of multicoloured ceiling lights ranging from Parabolic Carnister light,Moonflowers to Beam lights. James went straight to the bar and sat down on one of the chairs there.He immediately ordered for a drink which he gulped immediately,the reflection of the light coming from the parabolic Carnister beamed into his eyes making him remember his dead kids as their memories flashed through his mind.He kept ordering for more drinks and within a short period of time he became tipsy.

Atticus narrowed his eyes and studied me. "What is Lugh light?" I asked curiously. Sawyer chuckled, "Lugh is the Irish God of light and that flash you do is called Lugh light. It is a very rare gift…" "And something that your mother has given you because I can not do it," Atticus said while rubbing his chin in thought.

The light danced around us like disco strobe lights, reflecting the hues of indigo, red, orange, green, yellow, and blue. It was like a rainbow had come down from the skies to grace us with light. What is this?

A lighter. “Let me,” I said, grabbing the lighter from him. “But first, tell me what are we really doing here?” He inched closer to me and my heart started pounding loudly against my ribcage. He looked at me intensely that made my knees wobble like jelly. I don't how he got that effect on me. “Like I said, to talk,” he said, his voice sounding muffled because of the cigarette in his mouth. I removed it from his mouth and firmly held it 'til he gave me an answer I'll be satisfied with.

“They’ve stolen our stories and dressed them in shadows. They’ve taken our names, our symbols, our truths. But here’s the thing about light—it doesn’t vanish when you split it. It multiplies. If you hear this, make your own Lumen. In your plaza, your kitchen, your street corner. Speak to someone in a way no algorithm can. Look them in the eyes. Share the memory only you can carry. That’s the light they can’t fake. That’s the one they fear.” The message went out over every Echo Node, every Resonant Cloth channel, every anchored gathering. And for a moment—brief but electric—the map lit not in red, but gold.

The pillows are amazing too, heavenly, even. With a heavy sigh, I push the comforter off my tired body and swing my feet off the bed slowly. Not far from the bed is a light switch, so I take a few steady steps toward it and flick it on. The the light is so bright, I'm blinded for a couple moments, but when I can actually bare the light, I notice a door a few feet away. I hurry over to it with my hand supporting the small baby bump I have and jiggle the knob desperately. Locked, of course.