Unscramble Beacon Novels & Stories

Panels of dead holo‑screens hung askew from its sides, some still sputtering half-images. At its crown, a shattered **beacon** flickered sporadically, beams of sickly green and pink light lancing into the polluted sky, then cutting out. The air up here was colder, thinner. The wind knifed through my torn clothes, carrying the tang of ozone and burnt circuitry. Between us and the base of the beacon, the rooftop was… occupied. A massive chimera‑like **drone‑beast** hunched on all fours, its metal body heaving with slow, mechanical breaths.

Not long after that, I went to dreamland. "Clyde.. Clyde." I opened my eyes slowly. "Hmm what?" "Go move to the bed." Beverly said and I sat up straight. I turned my head to the window and it's still dark. "Move to the bed." She repeated it and I nodded lightly. I'm still not fully awake. I got up and realized something. "Wait.. why are you waking me up?" I asked and she pinched the back of my head. Yup it hurts..

The air was unnaturally still, the sea flat and polished like a dark mirror. "It’s not a broadcast, Hope," Clara whispered, her voice carrying a weight that hadn't been there since the day Julian first disappeared into the Shadow Peaks. "It’s a Beacon. Someone is calling for the Audit." Suddenly, the water 500 yards out began to boil. It wasn't the violent white foam of an explosion, but a localized, intense displacement. A shape began to rise—a craft that defied every Thorne-Vance aerodynamic law. It was a perfect, seamless sphere of polished gold, looking like a drop of liquid sun.

They stuttered, like a pulse skipping beats Were dangerous. In the center of the ring stood a man. Young, maybe just wearing a young shape. His hands were lifted, blood smeared across his wrists in lines that reminded me of the old stories—offerings made in echo of a cost already paid. I stepped forward, voice sharp. “Stop.” He didn’t flinch he just looked up. “You’re the Beacon,” he said. “Good. Then this gate will hold.” “No, it won’t,” Velza said, stepping beside me. “It’s fractured already.”

We crested the final ridge, and there it was. The Beacon wasn't just a tower. It was a fortress built into the hollowed-out crater of an extinct volcano. In the center stood a spire of white durasteel that pierced the clouds, emitting the pulse that was healing the sky. Surrounding it was a city not a ruin like Vegas, but a sleek, operational base with hangars, hydroponic domes, and defensive turrets that tracked us with silent precision. "It’s the Sanctuary," I whispered. "The place the Ghost Wolf project was meant to defend."

But without another thought, I shook my head no. I had an unclaimed omega to find. Her scent called to me and my wolf. The chill of the night air brushed against my skin, as I sprinted across the street in a handful of powerful strides. Her sweet scent whispered in the night air, faint but distinct, teasing my senses and pulling me in her direction like an invisible thread.

•Flashback• One day in Aahan's friend party. He was attend along with Sahana. She warned him to not touch alcohol because she hate that smell. But his cravings for drink couldn't stop him to drink it. He silently gulped a glass , he thought Sahana was unaware of it so he took the chance and gulped another glass ..Like this he made empty full bottle.

I woke up from the sound of my stomach growling, without a word; I stood up from lying on my bed; my face was a little hurt from the incident earlier when I saw my reflection, a big purple bruise. I sighed and held my cheek, and started to heal myself. My mom and dad were fascinated with my gift for healing, but it wasn't extravagant; like the doctors from our tribe, I could heal simple wounds or, like mine—Bruises.

They saw the facilities and, finally, the rooms. “Sir, this is the premium room, it has access to a private beach.” “Could you give us a minute alone?” “Yes, sir.” The employee left the room. Axel and Alicia walked towards some lounge chairs at the exit of the room and sat down. Seconds later, Axel let out a big sigh before speaking. “Miss Torres?” “Yes, sir?” Alicia asked, looking at him while he continued to stare at the beach.