Viltrumite Novels & Stories

I know I struck a nerve. “I know what you’re doing,” he sneers. “You’re stalling. Hoping your wolf will come and save you.” My heart skips as he chuckles—a sound that’s sick and gleeful. “She’s not coming,” he says. “Not now. Maybe not ever.” I freeze. “You know what I injected you with?” he continues casually. “It’s called Neruthium Veil—a poison bred from the roots of the Bloodshade tree, soaked in silver, enchanted with death chants. The most vicious substance known in our world. It severs the soul from the beast.”

Slowly, the violet light in his eyes flickered and turned a soft, human Amber. "Then... help us... Unplug," he whispered. Behind the 2.0s, Elara saw the true prize of the valley. It wasn't just heat. It was a Library—a physical collection of books and seeds, kept in a pressurized dome that was beginning to crack.

"However, you failed to check the inventory logs for Silos 5 through 8." "What does she mean?" Vane asked, panic edging into his voice. Tristan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up the inventory logs. He scanned the data, his eyes widening in absolute horror. "It’s not grain," Tristan whispered. "The eastern silos do not contain wheat," Vespera’s recording confirmed, her voice perfectly serene. "They contain heavily pulverized, unrefined Aether-slag. A byproduct of the deep mines. It is highly volatile, extremely toxic, and when mixed with the kinetic friction of the loading chutes..."

It was a laboratory. White-tiled walls, now cracked and stained with green oxidation, stretched into a vast, vaulted chamber. In the center of the room sat a massive, circular vat—the Well of Souls. It was filled with a thick, iridescent violet fluid that pulsed with the slow, rhythmic beat of a dying star. "Breathe-Easy units detected," the Admin reported. "But the filtration chemistry is... non-standard." Leo walked to the edge of the vat. He looked down into the violet liquid. The gold flecks in his eyes flared, illuminating the surface.

The violet light from his eyes pierced the gloom, revealing the prize we had come for. Hidden behind a waterfall of corrupted, black water was a massive, ancient Ziggurat made of seamless obsidian. It was pulsing with a heartbeat of pure anti-light. The first Tether. "Knock knock," Killian whispered.

I wouldn't let him tarnish the one thing I had left. He pulled me back, his grip firm. "I was observing, not insulting. Why so defensive, Ivy?" I didn't answer. I just kept filing. Cole, realizing that his presence wasn't enough to buy my attention tonight, reached into his mental arsenal. "I have a surplus of Black Rosewood in the Ryder vaults. I could have it brought here." My hand faltered. Rosewood. It was a legendary timber—dense, dark as a moonless night, and nearly impossible to find. My eyes lit up before I could catch myself.

Be careful what you ask for. His words translated as a gift- claiming that he'd essentially drain the life out of me in the most provocative way. Moving away from my body for a second, I felt his weight return in front of me along with the sound of a vibration. Pulling down on the restraints, I felt the object against my sternum. Getting wax poured on you was one thing, getting overstimulated as a punishment was a whole nother. Good job, Eve. Running the vibrator over each breast,

her connection to us—it was all being digitized. "Mama! It hurts!" The sound of her voice didn't just break my heart; it broke the "Lead-Curse." Suddenly, my leaden skin began to glow—not with the green of the forest or the white of the moon, but with a deep, pulsing Violet-Black. Aethel-Prime froze. She looked at me, her divine arrogance flickering into a look of genuine, scientific terror. "That color..." she whispered. "That’s not lead. That’s Void-Lead. The 'Rejected' isotope. The one that was supposed to have been purged during the First-Audit."

"By the time the tremors begin again, the Council will be kneeling at our altar, begging for the alloy that keeps their skin from hardening. They aren't our enemies, Julian. They are our best customers." Julian lunged, not for Valerius, but for the masked man. He moved with a speed born of desperation, his blade flashing in a desperate arc. The cultist parried with a piece of scrap metal that glowed with a faint, pulsing violet light—the same material that Kael had described. The collision sent a shockwave of energy through the room, humming with the familiar, sickening vibration of the blight. Julian stumbled back, his arm numb, his vision swimming with spots of violet light.

"How do we hide it?" Vane reached into his heavy, weather-worn cloak and pulled out a small, glass vial filled with a viscous, charcoal-colored liquid. "You drink this. It’s a dampener. Tastes like swamp water and despair, but it’ll sink that heat of yours so deep into your core that you’ll feel like you’re walking through a blizzard in a swimsuit. It’ll buy you a few hours of normalcy. Just enough to get past the gates." Aiden stared at the vial. "And the cost?"