The World War Book Novels & Stories

*Sienna* I wave at Em as I walk into the library with Mei again. I see he has his phone glued to his ear but he gives me back a small wave and then continues on with his call. I sit next to Mei and look at what she is going to read next; 'History of World War 2' and I chuckle. "You are really going to read that?" She grins. "I finished World War 1 before I went to get the token for Xavy. I love huma… Ehm… history."

This is way beyond my pay grade. “You know, back in the days, people called World War I the war to end all wars, in the end it simply set the stage and future allies for World War II. But after World War II everyone wanted out, and splitting the pie didn’t end in World War III. This situation, it will depend on how things will go. It could escalate into something ridiculously large in scale, or die within a year or two and be a minor blimp in history,” Killian said. “Do you realize ye’ve just depicted in yer analogy, World War I as a minor war?” said Aisling to her husband.

“The ruins opened, and what lay beyond gave them a power that shifted the balance of the world. But the details of what they found remain a mystery, even to this day. What’s certain is that their hunger for blood and power only grew worse after that.” “Their actions in Egon’s time cemented their reputation for cruelty,” Quintan said. “But their ambitions didn’t end there. They grew bolder, weaving themselves into the fabric of history, always hidden in the shadows. Do you know,” he asked abruptly, “who was the true instigator of World War II?” Maria blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject. “It was… Emsgate and Luftania, wasn’t it? Their territorial ambitions and alliance we

he asks. I shake my head once more, a humorless chuckle escaping me. “I talk a lot about what should and shouldn't be, but I don't think I really know anything. The history books tell stories of how the world was before the war, and it seems like everyone was always in some kind of race war. So maybe…” I hesitate, my voice trailing off. “Perhaps the world is better off this way?” He probes, finishing what he knows I was going to say, arching a brow.

I browsed the shelves, and I read the titles. Into the fire, A firsthand Account of the extraordinary Battle in Afghan War by Dakota Meyer, Bing West 500 Days, Secrets and Lies in the Terror Wars- Kurt Eichenwald The War for crown and Empire There are all sorts of books about wars here. I paused in front of a book that I deemed the most interesting. I pulled it out of the shelf and stared at it, contemplating whether to get on with it or not. I can choose a much thinner book… The 33 Strategies of War- Robert Greene

They took the oracle to the deepest part of the village where the rebels lived, to give him time to concentrate on divining the future that awaited them. "You must prepare for war, it is inevitable. Blood corrupts the enemy, so you must watch your necks if you want to win," that's all the oracle says, who was in the middle of what looked like a ritual. "Blood? Neck? Maybe we'll have to face vampires after all, this looks very bad," Marcus says. "I don't know, but we won't be afraid to face the people who want to harm us, so let's arm ourselves with courage and eradicate evil from the world. And if we need to go to war to achieve that, so be it," says Lyra optimistically.

After five years of marriage, Gabrielle Jamison stumbles upon her husband, Morgan Quilton, with his mistress. He's even brought their son, Casper Quilton, with him. Casper pretends not to know her, and Morgan doesn't even bother to hide his contempt. Gabrielle looks around at the room full of impeccably dressed guests. She twists the hem of her wrinkled shirt, then looks at her own haggard reflection in the mirror. The brilliant golden girl she used to be is gone without a trace. In that instant, she loses all hope in Morgan and Casper. So, when Morgan tells her he wants a divorce, she quietly says yes. From then on, every outrageous demand from his side of the family gets a hard no. Si

But on the lower shelf, pushed toward the back like something filed away rather than stored, I found it. No title on the spine. I pulled it free and opened the cover. “ A Complete Record of the Human Management System as Established by the Wolf Council in the Third Year Following the Great War’s Cessation,” I read out loud to myself. Great War. The same war, Mye had mentioned. I carried the book to the chair by the dead fireplace and sat down. The first section was bureaucratic—council minutes, resource allocations, the dry language of people building something terrible and calling it policy. I moved through it quickly, scanning for substance.

-END OF CHAPTER NINE- A shadowy figure watches from the horizon: “The Guardian thinks she’s won… but the real war begins tomorrow.”

There was a kind of respect in the way he let the question dangle. My father nodded once, a crisp downward dip of the chin. “For now.” Another pause, its duration just long enough to reestablish the hierarchy. Then he leaned back slightly, a posture less of relaxation than of disengagement. “There is a difference,” he continued, “between a war that begins by accident….” His gaze found Alexander again. “…and one that begins by design.” The implication hung between us. Someone wanted this war. It was no longer just a matter of pride or territory or even Gabriel; it was a matter of design, and my father intended to be its architect, not its victim.