The Secret Of Platform 13 Mga Nobela at Kwento

Chad cleared his throat. “They can ask all the questions that they want, it doesn’t mean I have to answer them.” Mya looked at Chad. Everyone had a lie or secret. It was naïve to think otherwise. In the case of Amy, she had one skeleton in her closet. To say that Mya was after revenge wouldn’t be wrong. Everyone needed to be taught a lesson. Secrets broke families and friendships. It made no sense to have them. If everyone could be honest the world would be a better place.

Within seconds every abandoned machine in the chamber came alive. Fans began spinning overhead. Ancient monitors flickered to life. Static filled the room. One dusty screen suddenly displayed a security camera image. Grand Central Terminal. Platform 27. The station looked completely empty. No passengers. No trains. Only one object sat in the center of the platform. A wooden box. About the size of a briefcase. Across its lid... Someone had painted the same nine-line symbol. Adrian stepped closer to the monitor. "That's what we're looking for."

ARC 5: The War for Blackreach. No one stepped onto the platform. An uneasy silence settled over the chamber, broken only by the slow grind of ancient gears buried somewhere beneath the mountain. Silver runes encircling the platform pulsed with a steady rhythm, brightening and fading like the heartbeat of something vast sleeping below. Astrid kept her sword raised as she studied the mechanism. "Talk." Elian never looked away from the platform. "Once it starts moving, it doesn't stop."

"I found what your rules missed." The theater screens went dark all at once. For a second, I thought I had won the prompt. Then the central platform split. The black-gold warmer containing Leo's archive began to sink. NEW RULE CONFLICT DETECTED. ARCHIVE ASSET TO BE MOVED TO SECURE MATERNAL VESSEL. Serena's glass door opened. She stepped through for the first time, both hands outstretched toward my son.

And on the baby’s small, pale palm, a new word was appearing, etched in the same red ink as Vaughan’s match-flame. ​"RUN." ​The Third Party ​Suddenly, the basement door didn't open—it Dissolved. ​But it wasn't Director Vane. It wasn't the Publishers. ​A woman stood in the doorway. She wore a dress made of "Pure Data-Streams," and her hair was a waterfall of "User-Interface" icons. She didn't look like a character, and she didn't look like an author. ​She looked like The Platform.

I struggled hard, trying to pull my hands free, but the restraints wouldn't budge no matter how hard I twisted. That was when the realization finally hit me. My mother ran an adult shop. And this had to be that new specialty bed she had recently ordered. It had built-in mechanisms. Once triggered, the restraints would lock automatically, and only someone outside could disable it. Earlier, I had been so exhausted that I grabbed the first bed I saw in the back room and passed out. I hadn't even noticed it was the brand-new display model. I must've hit one of the triggers in my sleep. Now the damn thing had my arms and legs locked in place.

Before I could ask more questions, Lucien stepped inside the ruins and motioned for us to follow. Sunlight filtered through broken stone overhead. Dust floated through the air. The place felt frozen in time. Then he stopped beside an old stone platform. "Here." I frowned. "Here what?" "Your mother hid something." My pulse jumped. Damon crouched beside the platform and examined it carefully. A few seconds later he found a small metal latch hidden beneath the stone. Everyone went quiet. Then Damon pulled. A section of the platform shifted. Nina gasped. Even Blaze looked surprised.

“The hologram, the security features, everything checks out. This is a legitimate company ID.” He passed it to the person next to him and the card made its way through the crowd as person after person confirmed what he had said. Each examination was followed by wider eyes and dropped jaws. The gasps and murmurs grew louder with each passing second until the entire office was buzzing with shocked energy. I felt like the floor had disappeared beneath my feet. My vision swam slightly as I tried to reconcile the man standing in front of me, the man I’d slept with twice, the man I’d been training as a junior analyst, with the words CEO of Callahan Enterprises.

Quietly, I asked, "Joan, do you know why I got my hands on Jonathan's riches in my previous life? Yes, my obedience played a part, but knowing all their dirt was another. "Jonathan had AIDS. His dad got it from one of Jonathan's parties as well. I never let Jonathan sleep with me in our whole marriage. When I found out about his… condition, I agreed to have an IVF baby with Jonathan to keep the Pearson bloodline running. The riches? They were for my baby. "I suggest you focus on the Pearsons. Coming after me is just going to be a waste of your precious little time." Then, I smiled, went back up the stage, and held hands with Gilbert. Our fingers were entwined.

The holographic war table cast blue light across the faces gathered around it, transforming the underground command center into something that belonged more in a science fiction film than in the basement of a repurposed oil platform in international waters. But then again, Griffin reflected, their entire situation had moved beyond anything that conventional reality could accommodate. The platform—officially decommissioned and abandoned, unofficially purchased through a network of shell companies established by Maria's contacts in the digital underground—provided them with a base of operations that existed in the gray spaces between national jurisdictions.