The New Gate Novels & Stories

Just the arrogance of excess money, confidently invisible. Junior shifted beside Nevena, blinking up at the seamless structure. It held the kind of intimidation that wraps itself around one's lungs. “This is…the gate?” Nevena said under her breath. Junior whistled. “This is definitely where Skynet lives.” Nevena chuckled. “Yeah—the gate alone looks like it cost more than New Mexico itself,” “Excessive at its peak.” Junior agreed, staring at his reflection on the obsidian surface. “Miss Nevena! How do we get in?”

Goma Island. It loomed out of the mist, a jagged silhouette of black rock and ancient forest. As we drew closer, the massive Southern Gate became visible. It was a marvel of engineering—a towering wall of reinforced composite alloy that had stood shut for nearly a decade. Seeing it now, with its two halves parted like a giant's wound, felt wrong. It felt like a trap waiting to be sprung. "All units, stay sharp," I said into my comms, my voice steady despite the roar of blood in my ears. "We don't know who or what opened that gate. Do not engage unless fired upon, but keep your fingers on the triggers."

he nodded toward the yard, "has dulled my sense of the Gate." "Until now." I stroked the soft fur of his head as he sighed, the heat of his breath warming my leg even through my jeans. "Until now. And, to be fair, Gates are very well guarded, for obvious reasons. They are pathways, Syd, between here and the realm. If some mortal were to stumble on one, the consequences could be catastrophic." "So what's up with this one?" I had to press my hand against my left knee to keep it from jiggling in impatience.

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.

I needed to find an outlet for it, and Dad handed me the perfect one last night. As I pulled up to the gate at the former Blood Moon Pack, I took in the changes. When I left, the ground had been covered in blood, the gate was scorched and damaged from the fight, and the post-battle clean-up still included removing bodies from the public areas. Now, the new gate sparkled in the sunshine, the walls beside it reinforced with stone and steel, while the royal banner flew above it, signaling that this territory was under royal stewardship. The guards at the gate nodded respectfully as I approached, granting me entrance easily. I recognized one of them from the palac

“Should we go inside?” “Yes,” Isadora said. They turned back toward the house. The guards followed. When they reached the garden door, another detail waited. A new lock. Small. Polished. Installed on the inner gate separating the garden from the west corridor. Isadora stopped in front of it. The guard stepped forward and unlocked it smoothly. “New security measure,” he said. “For your safety.” Isadora looked at him. “For whose safety?” she asked. He did not answer. They passed through.

The silence of the Arctic underground was not empty; it was heavy. It pressed against the eardrums like deep water, a suffocating weight that smelled of ozone, ancient dust, and the metallic tang of impending violence. We stood before the Great Gate of Nea-Thule. It wasn't just a door; it was a testament to a civilization that had looked at the laws of physics and laughed. The gate was a massive iris of dark, unknown alloy, embedded into the ice wall like a pupil in a frozen eye. But right now, that eye was staring down the barrel of a very modern, very lethal gun.

the active resonance of the teleportation gates continued below the feet of the newcomer. "Welcome Fade of the Vestal Virgin Sect! Please let me guide you towards the family grounds. All await the good news that you bring." a handsome man materialized in tune with the entrance of Fade. The gatekeeper who guarded the place stayed silent through it all as if he neither heard nor saw anything of relevance.

Slowly, Anya’s fingertips left the wall until she stood up then jumped into the home. Is this...It? I already took her home, as I promise Liam--well, kind of. And should I go? Should I say ‘Toolaloo~! Farewell~!’? Or maybe just escaping is the right thing to do? I said nothing and did nothing but stare at the gates which are also weirdly crafted at first sight, but I get the gist of it now. It’s supposed to be swirly vines with thorns all around but there are longer daggers near the middle, where the lock and latches are I suppose. People think they’ve done something but this is the worst fake-deep I’ve ever seen. And this one is not even from the internet! I hope the design of this is over

“Come.” *** We passed men working at the entrance to the property. The gate was destroyed, the rubble of it lying all over the road and driveway. “They promised to have a new gate installed by tomorrow, Nico.” Sal said, turning around in his seat. Nico grunted something non-committal.