Novels by Oluwabiyi Raymond

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

Chapter 100 – The Choice of WeaversThe Loom pulsed around them, alive in its silence. Shattered threads drifted like comets, glowing faintly in the void. Each strand hummed with possibility—stories not yet born, destinies unclaimed. The bridge beneath them no longer trembled; it waited, still and endless, like a question unasked.The four stood together in the center of everything.Kai’s fists were raw, his clothes scorched, his breath ragged. Mira’s blade was chipped and dull, yet she held it as if it were still sharp enough to cut the cosmos. Toren leaned on his axe like a pillar, his laughter gone, his eyes heavy. Elira’s hands glowed faintly, her sigils hovering around her like dying fireflies.The bond between them flickered, pulsing softly in each of their chests. It had carried them this far. Now it asked for one last act.The First ArgumentMira broke the silence first. Her voice was sharp, but her eyes were clear.“The Loom is broken. We can’t just leave it like this. If fat

Chapter 99 – The Silence AfterThe void no longer screamed.For the first time since stepping onto the Loom, the four were surrounded by quiet. No threads lashed. No stars fell. No Harbinger’s voice clawed at their minds. Only stillness—vast, heavy, and unfamiliar.The broken bridge stretched beneath them in fragments, strands of glowing silk drifting lazily like dust motes caught in sunlight.Kai’s chest heaved as he lowered his fists, aura flickering faintly around him. His knuckles were cracked and raw, blood smudging the light that clung stubbornly to him. His eyes fixed on the empty space where the Harbinger had stood, as if expecting him to claw his way back.But there was nothing.No return.Just absence.The Weight of VictoryMira’s blade trembled in her hand. Not from fear now, but exhaustion. She dropped to one knee, the sound echoing hollow against the thread-bridge. Her face was streaked with sweat and ash, her breath ragged.“It’s… really over,” she whispered, the words a

Chapter 98 – The Last ThreadThe Loom was collapsing. Threads of light snapped one by one, their screams echoing like dying stars. The bridge beneath the four shivered, splintering under the weight of unraveling creation.The Harbinger stood at its center, wings folding inward, his fractured form convulsing as if stitched together by the last fibers of existence. His blade pulsed like a heartbeat, jagged with shadow and destiny.“You think you’ve wounded me,” he hissed, voice cracked and broken. “But I am not a foe to be slain. I am the pattern itself. You tear at me, and you tear at reality. When I fall, so will all.”Kai stepped forward, chest heaving, fists clenched and burning with aura. The bond glowed through his veins, steady and alive. “Then maybe it’s time for a new pattern.”The Loom’s WrathThe Harbinger raised his blade and unleashed everything.The void convulsed. A billion threads lashed outward, a storm of light and darkness entwined. The bridge shattered into fragments

Chapter 97 – The Loom’s Last BreathThe void buckled as the Harbinger roared, his fractured form swelling with the power of the Loom itself. Threads of fate—billions upon billions—wrapped around his body like a living armor, binding him and feeding him at once. His wings stretched wide, eclipsing the starlight.The bridge beneath Kai and the others shivered, splintering into strands of light. Beyond, entire constellations flickered out like dying embers. The Loom was unraveling, its final breath caught between collapse and creation.“Do you see?” the Harbinger thundered. His voice cracked reality, shards of space raining into the abyss. “Even as I bleed, I am infinite. Your defiance is only fuel.”Kai planted his feet against the trembling bridge, fists blazing with aura. “If infinite means choking on your own threads, then good. We’ll keep feeding you till you burst.”Mira stepped up beside him, blade raised, her smirk tight but fierce. “Let’s cut this bastard out of the pattern.”To

Chapter 96 – Threads of DefianceThe void convulsed as the Harbinger spread his wings wide, each feather a collapsing star. The bridge of light buckled beneath the weight of unraveling destiny. Behind them, the Loom screamed, thousands of threads snapping in showers of brilliance.Kai, Mira, Toren, and Elira stood together, the bond between them burning like a living flame. Four threads, one weave.“Together,” Kai said, his voice steady despite the blood dripping from his lips.“Together,” the others echoed.The Harbinger’s blade lifted, jagged with shadow. His voice was thunder and finality.“Then together… you end.”Phase One – The Edge of ExistenceThe Harbinger struck, his blade cleaving reality itself. A rift opened across the void, swallowing chunks of the bridge. The companions scattered, each barely clinging to footing.Mira darted forward, her blade ringing as she deflected a downward strike meant to sever Kai in two. Sparks of unmade light sprayed across the void. “He’s fast

Chapter 95 – The Loom ShattersThe Loom groaned as if the universe itself was protesting. Every thread of light, every woven strand of memory, every delicate design of fate trembled as the Harbinger stepped forward. His form was not flesh but fracture—an outline of a man stitched from broken starlight and shadow, his blade a jagged seam of unraveling existence.The bridge of light the four companions stood upon buckled beneath his presence. It was narrow, fragile, suspended in an endless void that pulsed with collapsing galaxies.Kai stood at the forefront, battered but unbroken, chest heaving as blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. Behind him, Mira’s blade shimmered faintly despite its many chips, Toren’s axe dripped with spectral fire, and Elira’s silver glyphs circled her like a constellation.The bond between them blazed—no longer faint threads, but a burning weave that tethered them together.The Harbinger’s voice was the sound of the Loom ripping apart.“You have returned

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