The Purification Oblivion Novels & Stories

Ressi shielded his eyes, squinting into the brilliance. "Arrival confirmed," a voice announced. It wasn't a human voice. It was melodic, calm, and possessed a fatherly warmth that felt entirely manufactured. It resonated from every wall, every ceiling, and every floor. "Welcome, travelers, to the Sanctuary of the Steel Shell. You have escaped the chaos. You have been chosen for Purification." The Ritual of the Scrub

the Engineer replied. From the silver-white hand, a beam of "Pure Logic" struck the "Bridge of the Remembered." The living obsidian didn't break; it "Re-booted." The names of the outcasts vanished from the stone, replaced by a series of serial numbers. The violet lilies turned into white-porcelain statues of "Idealized Purity." Lyra was at Kaelen’s side, her shadow-wings looking like charcoal sketches as the "Sovereign Static" returned. "They’re 'Re-mapping' us, Silas! They’re taking the 'Context'!"

She leans in her seat, sighing. “Which is why I will keep it as a last resort,” I add. “If the plague is impossible to defeat with any other means, then I will try. There’s no harm in trying, yes?” I smile a little, but my two advisors meaningfully exchange glances from opposite sides. “As a matter of fact, there is.” My smile was washed from my face. With a solemnly quiet voice, Priscilla reveals, “Purification is the act of cleansing the damned. If you fail… the damned will corrupt you. Once you’re corrupted, in your state, you can either become a plague like him or suffer in the Underworld.”

"Elena saved me. Saved Marcus. Saved all bridges. She's she's everything. She's thank you Elena. Thank you thank you thank you." Elena's eyes opened three hours later. But they weren't her eyes anymore. "The purification worked," she said in voice that layered with thousands. "You cleansed the corruption. You made between pure. You made it perfect. Perfect for us." Around the settlement, all twelve healers sat up simultaneously. Eyes empty. Consciousness altered. Changed. "Did you really think," they spoke in unison, "that we were the corruption? That we were what needed to be removed?"

Third-person POV Two months had passed in a haze of stolen glances and suppressed heartbeats. ​ Lirian had thrown himself into the work with a ferocity that bordered on obsession. Sample analysis, degradation mapping, Aether resonance charts, anything to drown out the constant, humiliating ache between his legs. The self-lubrication hadn’t stopped; if anything, it had worsened. Every morning, he woke slick and hard, dreams saturated with obsidian horns and violet eyes. He told himself it was environmental. Aether exposure. Anything but the truth: the prince had infected him with a want he couldn’t cure.

In their hands, they carried long, silver rods that hummed with a sick, green light, and hanging from their belts were the heavy, brass-bound lanterns. "Vessel," one of the Purifiers spoke, his voice muffled by his mask. "You have strayed from the temple. Your filtration cycle is incomplete. Return to your chamber." "He's not a vessel," Julian spat, stepping in front of Kael. "He's a man. And you're going to have to go through me to touch him." "The guard is contaminated," the Purifier said flatly. "Purge him." The middle Purifier raised his rod. A blinding arc of green electricity crackled from the tip, tearing through the damp air toward Julian.

Lucian's helpful touch was overlayered by memories of their painful administrations, and it left me shattered. ​No matter how much I scrubbed my skin under the warm water that eventually turned cold, I still felt just as dirty. ​Sassy returns my way and I shake my head to push the painful memories back. I make quick work of picking up and throwing away her mess, gagging throughout the task while Sassy watched with a happy tongue flopping out of her mouth. I shake my head at her, my heart warming at her helpless innocence. I pet her a little longer than usual before we make our way back inside.

With a hunger for justice. I burned from the inside out. Not from pain— But from purification. A blazing fire cleansing everything— The poison. The tea. The weakness. The doubt. The body that had once crawled in the shadows of hesitation was now cloaked in something greater. A primal force that didn’t ask permission anymore—it claimed. The poison... evaporated. The herbs... dissolved. The numbness and restraint... vanished like smoke. I don’t know how long it lasted. Hours? Days? Weeks?

Though this new path added five more days to the trip, it was safer and smoother, better suited for Lyra, a fragile she-wolf who deserved care and protection. But that wasn’t the only reason. This path passed by a special place, a small cave deep within Gloomwood where Raven and Cara, who was now Lyra, had once lived happily together. Raven had heard that the Potion of Oblivion, the memory-erasing elixir Lyra had taken, wasn’t permanent. With the right stimulus, the memories could return little by little. He hoped the first ones to resurface would be the beautiful moments they once shared.

“How many realities do I need to go through?” “I’m not entirely sure...” Galahad knew that going through several realities was a form of purification process for the soul. Sirion was placed in a portal that relinquished all ill-wills and malicious desires to prevent his followers to try and free him. “I helped designed these spells, but I have no idea how many layers you’ll need to pass to purify your soul before you see him. At any rate, these realities are hard to overcome, so you must be careful.” “Alright. I’ll be careful then.”