The World Requiem Novels & Stories

In this Dark World, I have no one, No family, No friends, No love, and No father. When my father heard about me, becoming a murderer. He collapsed on the ground, outside of the lock-up and never stood up. He is still sleeping in heaven, looking at me, praying for my safety with my mother. Your Honour! Lawyers! And court person, You all know that the Dark world has beasts, Monsters, Devils, Demons, and Hades but they are old now and only appear in fairytales. Do you know why? because Humans are worse than them.

“I’m ready.” With that, Ryder pressed a series of buttons on the control panel, and the heavy security doors slid open with a mechanical hiss. The room beyond was dimly lit, the shelves filled with thick binders and electronic terminals that hummed with activity. Eva stepped inside, her eyes immediately scanning the room. It wasn’t just the physical files they needed; it was the data. The heart of Project Requiem was buried in these walls—somewhere. She could feel it, just beneath the surface.

The stars above twisted into spirals of light and shadow—patterns that mirrored the old Blood Moon’s heartbeats, but broken, imperfect. > You made harmony, but harmony is just control with music. Nareth’s flames crackled. “Show yourself.” A figure stepped out of the air— tall, translucent, its eyes like mirrors reflecting every color of creation. > I am Requiem, it said. The rhythm between your rhythms. --- The Philosophy of Requiem Seren stared at it. “You were born from the pause?” Requiem tilted its head, smiling faintly. “Born from what you left unclaimed. Every silence holds a possibility. Every note hides a dissonance. I am both.”

Day after day he got better, on the day he was about to be discharged, he asked Riley "Where is your mother darling?" "Dad.. Um.. I don't know how to tell you this but..." Riley said stammering "Talk to me" Edmund said "She is dead, dad" Riley finally said "When?" He asked "Last two weeks" Riley replied "Where is her body?" Edmund asked yet again "In the morgue" Riley said "She has suffered way too much let's send her on her way now." Edmund said "Okay dad, I will get to that but first let's go home" Riley said and Edmund nodded and he was put on a wheel chair since his heart was still weak he couldn't walk he still needed time to recuperate.

Thanks, brain, I guess. I can hear footsteps coming at me and shouts of bitch you will never get away with this! As I turn to the corner, my ears are suddenly surrounded by faint chatters from people getting louder. A song is still ringing through my earphones as Agon screamed: THE WORLD IS CRUEL THE WORLD IS UNFAIR BUT WE SHOULDN'T BLAME THE WORLD FOR ITS PEOPLE THAT NEVER CARED NATIONS SHALL UNITE BUT WE CREATED WARS I CAN'T BELIEVE MOST OF YOU BELIEVE IN GOD

But as they watched the new world wake up, they knew that for the first time in history, the wolves and the world were finally singing the same song. The high-frequency vibration of the Genesis-Vein slowly settled into a rhythmic hum, a deep, resonant thrum that felt like the mountain itself was breathing in relief. The Goliath-Class Reapers remained motionless, their massive iron legs locked in the salt crust, now nothing more than hollow shells of a discarded era.

This was me if I had never been chosen, never bound by flame, never scarred by war. Its words dripped slow, deliberate, like each one was woven into my marrow: “The Hollow will not close with steel. Not with flame. Not with crowns. It will close with silence. One soul given willingly. One soul crossing the threshold. Then the wound in the world will seal.” The air left my lungs in a violent rush. A sacrifice. Always, always a sacrifice. “And if we don’t?” My voice cracked, little more than dust carried on breath. The shadow’s head inclined. “Then the world drowns.” No malice. No threat. Only truth, spoken like the turning of a page.

“At last you arrive, my little heir.” Rayden stood at the edge of that rift, his body still wrapped in dimming flames. The embers in his chest throbbed irregularly, like a heart refusing to stop despite losing its blood. Below, the mortal world slowly faded, leaving only flashes of Anya’s and Orion’s faces in his mind. “I have to finish this, before the world breaks with it.” One step and everything changed. The void welcomed him without color. There was no sky, no ground, only darkness that felt fluid. Every step he took caused something beneath his feet to crack and make a sound, not an echo, but a whisper, ancient prayers in the long-lost language of the War God.

She turned it over slowly, reading the old tag faded into the tape. "Op. Requiem. 1991." My breath caught. Requiem. It was a ghost story in the mafia world. A fabled operation. The one time three of the Five Families united to erase a sixth that dared rise. Brutal. Surgical. Forgotten. And buried by my father. I walked slowly around the chair. The skeleton's skull had been cracked in. The blood on the floor had dried into the marble itself. "What is this place?" Matteo asked.

She could still feel their spirits in the wind, their voices calling to her, urging her to do what she must. The mass funerals would not be quick. They could not be. These were not just the bodies of soldiers—they were the last remnants of a world that had died long ago, a world that had been crushed under the weight of corruption, war, and power. The souls of the fallen, both those who had fought with her and those who had been claimed by the Order, needed to be honored.