Novels by Oluwabiyi Raymond

Chapter 25: The Final Audit & The End of Everything (Pending Review)The day had come.The sky was a shade of gray that suggested both “we're overdue for a thunderstorm” and “reality has entered the draft phase.”A red blinking message hovered above every desk in the Bureau:FINAL CELESTIAL AUDIT COMMENCING IN: 3 HOURS(Bring pens, truth, and your last will in triplicate.)Freddie stared at it. “Three hours? That’s barely enough time to cry and rewrite the entire filing system.”Nigel nodded grimly. “Which is why we’re going to do both. Simultaneously.”Jeff the goat—still glowing faintly, still somehow employed—sneezed and turned a motivational poster into a legally binding prophecy clause. It read:“At the end of days, a goat shall sneeze, a rookie shall panic, and bureaucracy shall be the savior of worlds.”Freddie blinked. “...Oh no. I’m the rookie.”Mira grinned. “This is going to be fun!”Audit Prep: Total Panic, Mildly OrganizedThe Bureau’s bullpen transformed into a paper tor

Chapter 24: Timeline Errors & The Espresso SingularityWhen the new form landed on Nigel’s desk with the force of a minor asteroid, he didn’t even flinch.He just took one look at it, calmly sipped his double-shot espresso, and muttered,“…Welp. Time is broken again.”Freddie peeked over his shoulder.FORM XZ-9Z: FINAL PROPHECY UPDATE — TIMELINE COLLAPSE IMMINENT“All events henceforth are retroactively happening in reverse unless you complete and submit Form TT-Loop-88 (Triplicate) within the next 12 minutes ago.”Freddie blinked. “I… I don’t even know what that means.”Nigel replied, “It means we’re late. Technically before now.”Just then, Mira ran past them backward, shouting, “WE HAVE TO FIX THE COFFEE—WAIT, I MEAN UNFIX IT—NO—AGH!”A paperclip opened a tiny wormhole behind her.Freddie looked down at his watch. It blinked ??:??.Kev stomped in, holding the sparking office coffee machine in both hands like it was a ticking time bomb.“It spoke,” Kev growled. “The espresso machine

Chapter 23: Mandatory Cross-Dimensional Team-Building Retreat (Please Pack Accordingly)Freddie had battled cursed paperclips, survived a goat-induced prophecy, and barely escaped a stapler uprising with most of his limbs intact.But nothing—nothing—filled him with dread like the five words now glowing in fluorescent horror across the breakroom bulletin board:"MANDATORY CROSS-DIMENSIONAL TEAM-BUILDING RETREAT"Underneath in bold:Attendance is not optional. Absences will be punished by reassignment to the Department of Eternal Paper Cuts.Freddie turned to Nigel, who was reading the flyer with the same calm you might expect from a man moments from accepting his doom.“This is it,” Nigel said grimly. “The final test. The worst horror of all: enforced enthusiasm.”DepartureThey were herded through a glowing portal by HR agents wearing polo shirts and unnatural smiles. The portal deposited them in a surreal floating resort dimension called TrustFalls & Tentacles™: An Interdepartmental

Chapter 22: Rise of the Staplers (and Other Sentient Office Equipment)There are few sounds more terrifying in the Bureau than the ominous ka-chunk of a stapler priming itself—especially when no one is holding it.Freddie stood frozen by the filing cabinets, his blood turning to iced coffee. Somewhere behind him, another ka-chunk echoed… followed by a soft metallic clink and what might’ve been an evil giggle.Gwen slowly turned from her desk. “Please tell me that was someone manually stapling something.”Nigel stared at the trembling supply drawer. “Nope. That was definitely a self-arming stapler.”Mira bounced over. “Yay! The staplers are waking up! That means the prophecy is unfolding!”Kev narrowed his eyes. “Mira, you say that like it’s a good thing.”Mira blinked. “Isn’t it?”Jeff the goat sneezed from his containment circle, and all the paperclips on Gwen’s desk did a coordinated backflip.The Prophecy Gets WorseNigel read aloud from the freshly updated Omega-Plus file:“And lo

Chapter 21: Containing Jeff (Or, How to Lose Your Sanity in 30 Minutes)There were many dangerous assignments in the Bureau—some involved wrangling cursed printers, others required negotiating with time-eating vortexes in the mailroom. But nothing—not even the Prophecy of Ultimate Unraveling—struck fear into the hearts of the Department of Misfortune quite like the task ahead:Goat containment.Jeff, the Bureau’s beloved(?) chaos goat, was lounging atop a desk, chewing on a dimensional rift and humming what sounded like the Jeopardy! theme in reverse.Nigel had gathered the team in the bullpen, wearing a helmet made of stamped forms and carrying a net labeled “USE ONLY IN EXTREME REGRET.”“I want to be very clear,” Nigel began, pointing at Jeff, “this is not a capture. This is a tactical pre-containment of an unpredictable quantum organism with horns, a sneeze radius of seven meters, and zero respect for reality.”Freddie looked pale. “Why does the net smell like regret and cinnamon?”

Chapter 20: The Prophecy Reclassification Meeting (A.K.A. The Eighth Circle of Hell)There were many things Freddie hated about his job.The aggressive paperwork.The sneezing, reality-warping goat.The ever-present possibility of being erased from existence because of a misplaced comma.But nothing… nothing compared to the soul-crushing horror of mandatory department-wide meetings.The Misfortune Bureau’s largest conference room—dubbed The Oblivion Room—buzzed with the low, miserable hum of employees trapped in bureaucratic purgatory. The fluorescent lights flickered like they, too, longed for escape.Freddie sat between Nigel and Mira, clutching a half-filled coffee cup like a lifeline. Across the room, Kev scowled at a stack of meeting agendas, and Gwen methodically prepared her third industrial-strength espresso.The intercom crackled.“Attention all staff: Prophecy Reclassification Meeting begins… now.”A portal opened. The Celestial Auditor stepped through, accompanied by a floa

Chapter 142 — Epilogue: The Song of TomorrowThe wind swept softly across the golden fields of Loria, carrying the scent of rain and new beginnings. The sun was rising — a brilliant sphere of amber that bathed the world in warmth, spilling light through the ruins-turned-meadows where once chaos reigned.It had been three months since the Relic’s awakening — since Elliott Fen had vanished into light. The scars of battle had faded, and the lands once fractured by greed and war were slowly healing. The rivers ran clear again, forests bloomed, and the skies — once cracked and bruised — now shimmered a soft blue.In a quiet valley near the restored city of Vareth, a small inn stood beneath a willow tree. Its sign swung gently in the morning breeze:“The Shard’s Rest — In Memory of a Fool Who Saved Us All.”Inside, the clatter of dishes, laughter, and music filled the air.Durn leaned back in his chair, half-asleep, a mug of something too strong for breakfast in his hand. “I told ya,” he gr

Chapter 141 — The Light Beyond LoriaThe night was still when Elliott stood at the edge of the ruins, the fractured moon hanging above him like an open eye. The air shimmered faintly — thin streams of silver drifting upward from the broken Shard of Loria he now held. His hands trembled around it, feeling its quiet hum sink deep into his bones.Behind him, the others waited in silence — Aria’s eyes soft with exhaustion, Durn’s axe resting against his shoulder, Lyra sitting cross-legged, nursing her bandaged arm, and Fenric leaning on his staff, his expression unreadable beneath the hood.They had done it. After all the chaos, all the blunders, betrayals, and unexpected heroics — they had all five shards.The final piece pulsed in Elliott’s grasp. Its light connected with the others hovering before them, weaving a radiant lattice that painted the broken ruins in threads of dawnlight.“Is it… really over?” Lyra asked quietly.Elliott didn’t answer. The truth was — he didn’t know.The Sha

Chapter 140 – The Ghosts of the FallenThe dawn after peace always feels the strangest.It wasn’t quiet — not really — but it was the kind of stillness that made every hammer strike, every voice, every bird’s call echo like a memory of something larger. Calvess was waking up again, and for once, it wasn’t to the sound of marching boots or distant screams.Kai stood near the riverbank that cut through the southern edge of the city — a place once black with ash and bodies, now flowing clear for the first time in months. The reflection of the rising sun rippled over the water, scattering light like shards of gold.He hadn’t slept. His dreams, when they came, were filled with faces — some he had saved, some he had failed to. But none lingered longer than Bram’s.It was strange, he thought, how much quieter death made a man.He turned as footsteps approached behind him. Solenne’s boots crunched against the pebbles, her cloak trailing mud. Even out of armor, she still carried herself like a

Chapter 139 – The Seeds of DawnThe rain had stopped three days ago, but the scent of it still lingered in the earth. Puddles gleamed like fragments of glass scattered between stones, and the new grass that sprouted between cracks carried the pale green of beginning again.Calvess — once a city of screaming bells and firelight — now whispered with the soft sounds of rebuilding. Hammers struck wood, children’s laughter echoed through alleyways once charred black, and the distant hum of voices blended into a strange, almost sacred music. It was imperfect, noisy, and alive.Kai stood on the balcony of what used to be the command tower. Now it was half-broken, its stones scorched, its banners gone. But from up there, he could see everything — the skeleton of the city taking its first careful breaths.He wore a simple shirt rolled to his elbows, his sword still at his hip but untouched. His hair, longer now, moved with the breeze that came down from the northern cliffs. He’d never thought

Chapter 138 – After the FireThe rain returned three days later.It came quietly this time, without thunder, without fury — as if the heavens themselves were ashamed of what they had watched. The fires of Calvess hissed and faded, leaving behind a city of ghosts. Streets once filled with laughter were now rivers of blackened water. The proud banners of the Lion had turned to ash, clinging to broken towers like faded memories.Kai stood atop the remnants of the southern wall, wrapped in a tattered cloak. His left arm was bound tight in linen; his sword hung limp at his side. The air smelled of smoke and iron.Below, the survivors moved among the ruins — scavenging what food they could, tending to the wounded, burying the dead. Children, silent and watchful, followed behind the healers with eyes far too old for their years.Mira limped across the courtyard, her shoulder still raw from battle. Her hair had been cut short, unevenly, burned at the ends. When she reached Kai, she didn’t spe

Chapter 137 – The Fall of the LionThe dawn came red. Not from the sun, but from fire.Calvess burned like a dying god, every tower a pyre, every street a river of ash. The rain had stopped, but the air was still wet — with smoke, with blood, with the last breaths of the city that had defied an empire.Kai staggered through the wreckage of the gate. His armor was cracked, his face streaked with dirt and grief. His sword, once polished silver, now looked forged from ruin.Behind him, Mira limped, her arm bound, her eyes wild. Corvyn supported Theo, who barely stood. The defenders had fallen back into the keep’s lower courtyard — the final wall before the sanctum.The banners of Calvess hung in tatters from the ramparts.And across the courtyard, through smoke and embers, Bram approached.The conqueror’s crimson cape dragged through the mud. His armor gleamed with the reflection of flames, his face expressionless — almost serene. In his hand, the great black sword pulsed faintly, as tho

Chapter 20: The Not-So-Grand Finale (Because Someone Forgot to Cancel the Apocalypse)Or, “Who Left the End of the World on Overnight?”1. Apocalypse, With a Side of ToastDawn broke over the charred hills of Splattervale, casting long shadows across the wreckage of a battle nobody had quite planned for. There was no fanfare, no trumpets—just the gentle hiss of something still smoking, and the inexplicable sound of a toaster dinging somewhere in the distance.Marvin lay on his back, staring at the sky. “I think I pulled something. Possibly my dignity.”“You did great,” Relka said, lying next to him, still smudged with magical soot. “You saved the multiverse.”“Technically, I only saved one universe,” Marvin corrected. “The other seventeen still think I’m a menace.”“Fair.”Bartholomew stood over them, flipping through a half-burnt spellbook. “So… uh. Remember how the Echo Crystals were supposed to stabilize the veil between dimensions?”“Yeah,” Marvin groaned. “What about it?”“They d

Chapter 19: The Epic Fight Against Me, Myself, and I (and I, and I, and I...)Or, “Echo Chamber of Explosions”1. The Merge-pocalypse BeginsUltra Echo Marvin hovered thirty feet above the ruined Crags of Cringe, bathed in an aura of sheer narcissistic power. Nine echo beacons pulsed across his body, radiating chaos magic in shades of regretful lime green and smug mauve.“Behold!” Ultra Echo Marvin thundered. “I am what happens when self-esteem is left unsupervised!”Marvin shielded his eyes. “Okay, I take full responsibility, but also, that glowing cape is too much.”“It’s a statement piece!” Ultra Echo Marvin declared.“It’s a screaming piece,” Bartholomew corrected.Relka leaned toward Marvin. “So how do we fight… you? Times nine?”“I was hoping one of you had ideas,” Marvin muttered, pulling out his spellbook. “All I’ve got is a deflect charm and three ways to conjure soup.”Jeffrey the Goose, still perched dramatically on a rock, flapped his wings with an ominous honk that transl

Chapter 18: Everything Goes Wrong in the Final DungeonOr, “You Can't Spell 'Doom' Without ‘Oomph!’”1. It Begins With Lava. Obviously.Marvin had barely had time to dust the goose feathers off his robes before they were deep beneath the Crags of Cringe, staring at a doorway that read:FINAL DUNGEON AHEAD: ENTER ONLY IF RIDICULOUSLY STUPID OR UNBELIEVABLY BRAVEP.S. Lava.“Seems inviting,” Marvin said, brushing soot off his shoulders.Relka raised a brow. “This isn’t the final dungeon.”Marvin pointed to the sign.Bartholomew sighed. “This is a final dungeon. There are at least fourteen more, depending on how much you offend the architecture.”They stood at the jagged entrance to what once had been the Temple of Tranquility. Now it was mostly Temple of “Exploding Statues and Regret.” Jeffrey the Goose hovered overhead like a feathery god, honking disapproval every few minutes.One of the echo-beacons—specifically, the Beacon of Overconfidence—had gone rogue and built itself a throne r

Chapter 17: The Beacons Combine (and So Do Their Problems)It began with a humming.Not from a creature, nor a bard, nor Marvin attempting to sing his theme song again (thank the stars), but from the ten magical beacons now floating around him like confused, glowing ducklings.Each pulsed a different color—ruby, emerald, sapphire, topaz, and a particularly aggressive shade of “don’t-touch-me” magenta.Bartholomew looked like he was about to faint. “Marvin. Did you… accidentally activate all ten beacons at once?”Marvin beamed. “Yes! But on purpose!”“You faceplanted onto them while fleeing a ballroom.”“I chose that landing. It was graceful.”Relka snorted. “You screamed, ‘My spine!’”The Glorious Glowing MistakeNow they stood atop a hill overlooking Castle Umbra—which was no longer a castle so much as it was a pile of flaming irony—as a swirling vortex of magical light spiraled into the sky.“Just to be clear,” Relka said, dodging a low-flying beacon, “what exactly are the beacons d

Chapter 16: The Blight King’s Ball and the Great BetrayalThe invitation arrived by flaming raven.Not metaphorically. A literal flaming raven crash-landed into Marvin’s porridge, squawked out a trumpet fanfare, and exploded into glitter. In its ashes, a scroll lay smoldering with the words:YOU ARE INVITED TO THE ANNUAL BLIGHT KING’S BALL!Dress Code: MenacingRSVP: Or ElseGift Bag Includes: Mild Poison, Goat Figurine, SecretsMarvin squinted. “This seems… romantic.”“It’s a trap,” Bartholomew muttered.“Obviously,” Relka added. “But we are going, right?”Marvin grinned. “I’ve always wanted to waltz in the face of evil.”Welcome to Castle UmbraThe Blight King’s fortress loomed like a gothic fever dream—spiked towers, floating staircases, and lava fountains shaped like weeping angels. It was the kind of place that had multiple dungeons labeled “Just In Case.”The trio arrived in disguise:Marvin wore a red cape made from what he insisted was “enchanted vampire silk.” It was just vel

Chapter 15: The Screaming Skies and the Symphony of StormsAs far as ominous floating islands go, this one was particularly dramatic.Suspended above a sea of lightning, the Isle of Screaming Skies was shaped like a goat mid-yodel, with thunderclouds constantly swirling around its hooves. It rotated slowly in the air, occasionally letting out a loud BEEEAAAAHHH that echoed across the land like a magically amplified barnyard opera.Marvin clapped his hands with glee. “This is the most beautiful disaster I’ve ever seen!”Bartholomew adjusted his glasses and grimaced. “I can actually feel my hair frizzing from here.”Relka stared up at the floating isle. “How do we get up there? There’s no ladder. No portal. Just… goat.”“Don’t worry,” Marvin said, pulling out a flute. “I read a scroll once. It said: 'When the sky bleats, play the tune of ascending sheep.'”“You just made that up,” Relka said.“Probably,” Marvin agreed—and began to play anyway.Enter: The Sky-YaksThe flute’s tune—somewh