Walker World Novels & Stories

the interviewer asked. “I have nothing much to say to the people of the world because there's really nothing they can do. Only the governments of the world can do something about this, and only their people can make them act. One thing I'll say is that there are only three cities where all the werewolves are currently located. These cities are Willow Crest, Mystic Meadow, and Westerville. They'll soon spread to the rest of the world if not tamed, and all hell will break loose when that happens,” the man said.

Low murmurs ripple through the hall like a rising storm, the weight of unspoken judgments pressing against my chest. The elders, draped in ceremonial robes, move toward the central platform with the solemn grace of those who have seen centuries of bloodshed and hard-won victories. Their faces, etched with wisdom and battle scars, remain unreadable as they take their places. In the middle of a circle of wolves, a frail, trembling figure curls inward, barely clothed, her skin too pale against the flickering torchlight. A vampire—small, human-like, and fragile-looking—yet undeniably dangerous.

THE CITY OF BOMADA (THE SECOND ZONE, CRYSTAL WHITE PACK) A sudden, unnatural darkness swallowed the city whole. Chaos erupted. Werewolves stumbled and fell, their vision stolen by a powerful, roaring spell. A force greater than them had struck without warning. Wealthier pack members, those fortunate enough to own cars, attempted to flee. They sought refuge in the human world beyond their territory, but nature itself turned against them. Thunderbolts crackled through the air, striking their headlights, plunging them into deeper despair. Trapped within their vehicles, they could do nothing but listen to the desperate cries of their kind.

Not then. Nytherra opened like a book, and the world wrote in it. At first, they lived as if apocalypse had taught them nothing. The wolves built no walls and trusted the wind. The fae built nothing but walls and trusted no one. The witches found a cliff beside a waterfall and carved a city into the stone with spells and stubbornness. It gleamed at sunset like a blade and a promise. The Valkyries threw up halls that were more like songs than architecture—vast spaces built to echo victory. The giants chose the far north, where ice was thick enough to stand memory on, and stamped citadels into the permafrost until their doorways were as tall as storm clouds. Kitsune claimed the east, where bam

"It's not a script anymore, Dax. The old timeline is dead. The Board has no power, the Nullity is gone, and the Red-Queen is just a localized AI holding the doors open for us." "So, what is it now?" Reaper asked, lowering his rifle for the first time since Chapter One. Dax looked at the Iron Wolves, then out at the sprawling, glowing, reborn world waiting for them. The Speedrun was over. There were no more bosses to fight, no more timelines to fix, and no more predetermined paths to follow. "It's an Open World," Dax smiled, the true King of the Wolves claiming his kingdom. "No missions. No borders. We build what we want. We ride where we want."

If he wasn’t killed or has gotten sick to death, there’s still a possibility for him to be alive since we are capable of living for a maximum of five thousand years. This world where I belong is called Audravaria. It is divided into two kingdoms—the Oqazia that composes of white magicians called Oqans, and Crarene, the kingdom of dark magicians called as Cranes. All of us, in general, are called Audravarians. The other creatures in the three remaining worlds are considered as ‘lower beings’. Audravarians are the highest ones, for we have the longest lives and the strongest powers.

We all sprinted out of bed, throwing our clothes off and turning to wolves as soon as our bare feet hit the ground outside, making our way past the border, hoping to meet them outside the territory and keep the pack safe. We advanced with the Bois Sombre Pack warriors at our heels, knowing the others should arrive shortly. While I was against it, Alex had made sure his own troops were stocked with wolfsbane dart guns but promised to only use them if it became necessary. I was still of the belief that it was reckless since it was nearly impossible to differentiate wolves of different packs without being close enough to smell them, and friendly fire was simply too likely. I wasn't ready to ris