The World Requiem นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Massive, molten tendrils thicker than skyscrapers erupted from the chasm, reaching toward the sky with a blind, destructive hunger. "You are too late, Sterling!" High Priest Malakor shrieked, dangling helplessly from Jack’s grip. Even facing death, the Ouroboros fanatic was drunk on his own apocalyptic victory. "The World-Breaker is awake! It will consume your cities, boil your oceans, and crack this pathetic mudball into a billion pieces! You are the Planet's Alpha? Let us see you command a dying world!" Jack didn’t blink. His expression was a mask of cold, absolute fury. He looked down at the swirling inferno threatening to swallow his city, then back up at the arrogant priest.

A cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang out. [Do you want to leave this world?] "Yes." My mom held me tightly. In my dad's horrified stare, she jumped. He lunged forward like a madman, but his hands grabbed nothing but air. My mom's voice was ice cold. "David, goodbye forever." The next second, our bodies were wrapped in a soft glow and disappeared completely before his eyes.

“This is what we came for. Not to rule. Not to destroy. Not to become one endless thing. To weave the threads back together, so the world can be whole again.” For a long moment, there was silence. The Unwoven’s chaotic light swirled, shifting, and for a heartbeat, it almost seemed to calm. The trembling ground stilled. The heavy weight in the air lifted just a little. But then, a sharp, desperate cry cut through the quiet. “No!”

CLARA. "Do you take Alaric Voss as your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest’s voice echoes, distant, unclear. I can’t breathe. Blood—there’s my blood… my flesh—ah—it’s tearing, hot, wet, slipping through my fingers. Wolf… its claws, teeth, ripping me. I’m… my— My fingers twitch, and I’m back, my eyes snapping open. The world snaps into place. There’s soft music playing somewhere around, and flowers—the faint scent of roses and polished wood.

Another call. Another storm. And this time, the whole world might need healing.

“That will kill you.” He looks at me — really looks — and for a moment I see peace in his expression. “Maybe it’s time something ended.” “Axel, please—” But before I can reach him, the ground trembles. The sky splits open. And from the center of the ruins, a voice rises — cold, mechanical, familiar. > “Reboot complete.” I grab his arm, the wind tearing around us. “What’s happening?” He stares into the light ahead. “The world just remembered us.”

And now… you must choose whether to close the thread again—or let the world remember what it was. Back in the temple, the gate screamed. Not a sound, but a vibration that split the stones. Maera collapsed, blood running from her ears. Lucien dropped to one knee, sword planted in the floor to steady himself. The void-robed figure rose slowly, speaking one word: “She’s reached the end.” Then it turned toward Lucien, its voice tight with gravity. “If she opens it fully… the world may not survive what it used to be.”

I let the low melody of the music playing over the radio invade the sepulchre of that moment, after all, that's what we looked like. Two dead people. The harmony of What's Left from Three Doors Down resonated ironically, almost like a punch of truths scattered through every word Brad Arnold sang. "It's time for me to let you go, that's what we have to do. It's time to give this up, I think we already knew that. There's nothing left for us to talk about, there's nothing left to prove." Perfect timing, isn't it? Life is a succession of debauched events that play out right in front of you, leaving you only to accept that perhaps nothing can be done except accept the rules of the game.

And that emptiness recognized him as someone of his own. Only vaguely was he aware of the kicking of horse hooves outside, the screams of men, and then the sound of booted feet coming down the stone steps into the tomb. The screams grew louder. Theodria yelled something in the arcane tongue, but Vikto's daze prevented her from hearing the spell correctly. There was the clatter of steel against stone, the wet thud of swords striking flesh, and a god-fearing oath. Viktor opened his tear-filled eyes and glanced back across the deadly shadow world at the same time to see Inquisitor Felix Crissinger clash with the undead of the Tomb Raider.

A small case… originally I’d thought it was just to hold my sunglasses, which folded up tightly, but… No. That wasn’t it. This case was for something else. Something important. Something… I had to find. I felt a few tears come to my eyes. This was so damn frustrating! General Case had a lot to answer for… I couldn’t help feeling that he was the one that should be put up against a wall and shot. He’d taken my life from me… and I needed it back. It was important… no, it was critical. The world depended on it. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but somehow, I did. Without me and whatever it was I was supposed to find, the world would continue to die.