Thoma X Aether Novels & Stories

Leia told him. Emily was trembling. Her face darkened. She was gasping for air as she blabbed some words the two couldn’t understand. Thunder started to clap, and birds started chirping as the rain poured in a bit. Mysterious sounds were intensifying; the hunters and rouges were whimpering. The moon disappears "Monitus ut interfaces inclement." (Warning: ruthless killing) Emily said it repeatedly until she felt her body weaken and something in her womb kicked in. She was panting and gasping for air as the light surrounding her body disappeared.

was all he said before he thrusted with the force of a jackhammer. Athena should have listened to him, but she didn’t. The force was brutal; she felt him touch the tip of her cervix as if her organs were moving to accommodate his veiny shaft. Azazel’s force was re-arranging her internal organs, “I (thrust) told (thrust) you (thrust) to (thrust) hold (thrust) on (thrust) to (thrust) me,” he impaled her with another hard thrust, harder than the previous one.

As a result, they were caught in a stalemate for almost the entire hour. Ethan sent a tidal wave that travelled a lot faster than what would happen in nature. Alice covered his blind spots in the meantime. At the same time, a loud crack suddenly rang throughout the hall. Recognising the sound, Ethan's head snapped up and found the black cloud right above Alice. His body reacted before he could think. He propelled himself towards Alice. At the speed he had to go, Alice's neck would have snapped if she was not ready to be swept away by the wind, so his only choice was to personally get her himself. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her with one hand supporting her neck. A loud ex

“An aether dragon. Speak your name human, I can sense the presence of your guardians.” “I am Manolya Kara,” I answered cautiously. “And my companions are Aziz and Pareia.” “Little human, are you ready to fight then?” The dragon’s voice echoed directly inside my head, etching its heavy words inside my heart. I could feel the immense weight of him, the raw, ancient power vibrating through the air, and I nodded, keeping my voice as steady as possible as I answered, “I am ready.” With a deep inhale, Atherius breathed in a massive stream of aether energy from the crisp mountain air, completely filling its lungs.

Thorne stood on the pier, watching his crew load the crates of explosives—mining charges stolen from the Iron Wastes. "The charges are primed," Thorne said as Tristan and Saoirse approached. "Five hundred pounds of Aether-gel. Enough to crack a mountain." Tristan nodded. He wore his coat, buttoned high to hide the marks on his chest. He looked tired, but the frantic vibration was gone. He looked centered. "Who is the Storm-Caller?" Saoirse asked. "Me," a voice said. A woman stepped forward. She was tall, with skin like polished obsidian and hair that floated around her head as if underwater. Her eyes were entirely white.

The monitors on the wall, which had been displaying the news feeds, suddenly shifted to a new image. It was a live feed from The Aerie. Dominic Thorne stood in the center of the frame, his face smeared with blood and frost, his eyes glowing with that strange, silver "Origin" light. He was holding a severed fiber-optic cable in one hand and Cillian Thorne’s broken "Neural-Blocker" in the other.

The walls were covered in a pulsing, organic substance—the Aether-Growth (a bio-mechanical moss that grows where Isotope energy is concentrated). In the center of the command deck, they found him. Director Thorne wasn't in his armored suit. He wasn't behind a desk. He was slumped on the floor, his expensive suit charred and torn. But it wasn't the fire that had broken him. Thorne’s eyes were wide, leaking a thick, silver fluid. His legs had been fused into the floor by the Aether-Growth. He had been Discarded—the Architects had used his ambition to build the "doorway," and now that they were here, he was nothing more than biological scrap.

Wolves yelp as gravity snaps back briefly, sending Blake crashing face-first into Ethan’s shoulder. “Oof—hey!” Blake protests. “Buy me dinner first!” Ethan shoves him off with a grin. “Focus.” “I am focused. On not dying.” The Arbiter’s voice tightens, losing some of its perfect modulation. Primordial entity, your interference violates— Everything violates something, the Sleeper replies lazily. You’re just louder about it. The Crown inside me thrums—not afraid, not panicked—but relieved. Like it’s recognizing an old neighbor it never expected to see again.

He lay slumped against the base of a shattered pillar, his breath coming in shallow, wet rattles. Xander was at his side in a heartbeat, his hands hovering over the wound. The injury was horrific; it wasn't just a physical laceration. The spike was a piece of "Negative Aether," designed to unravel the biological frequency of whatever it touched. The edges of the wound were glowing with a sickly, necrotic violet light, and the flesh seemed to be pixelating, turning into grey ash even as they watched. "Marrow! Thorne! Secure the perimeter!" Xander barked, his Alpha command cutting through the chaos. "The shields are down to ten percent. If they hit us again, the mountain falls!"

The sun begins to lower through the sky, leaving orange glints reflecting off all the metals in the satellite dishes and vents that lead up here. I walk briskly closer until I'm completely behind him, watching his ink-covered back muscles tense with every blow. -Azael- I say this time, trying to normalize my breathing. Amon hits the bag looser before turning around. His torso is naked and a few beads of sweat fall down his black-colored body. His mouth is ajar to breathe easier and his chest goes up and down frantically. -What are you doing here? -question. His voice makes me shiver.