Novels by Samster_x

~Omniscient POVThe inside of the void was alive. Not in any sense one could name or touch, yet it throbbed, an endless pulse of colour and shadow, a place where gravity bent like wet cloth and time smirked behind its hand. Islands of stone floated in impossible arcs, some large enough to harbour forests of twisted, glowing trees, others mere shards of rock spinning lazily in mid-air. Wisps of light twisted like smoke along the edges, dissolving, reforming, bleeding into the ever-shifting black around them.Vyrath tore through the nearest fragment of rock with a howl, claws scraping against the impossible geometry. Shards floated upward, circling him in a chaotic dance before being swallowed into the void. He thrashed again, a tempest in miniature, each movement leaving trails of fractured colour in the air, sparks of his wrath illuminating the swirling darkness.“You’ll tire yourself before you even begin to understand it,” a voice called, clipped, sharp. Calista hovered nearby, leg

~LaurentThe portal blinked open like a slit in reality, a shadowed corridor stretching beyond comprehension. I stepped through, and the world around me folded and twisted, colours bleeding into impossible angles, sounds bending into echoes I couldn’t place. Beta walked beside me, silent, each step deliberate, like it knew how fragile I was in this realm.I swallowed hard. “Where exactly are we going?” I asked, though I already knew the answer: the void. The place no sane person should ever tread.“Patience,” Beta replied, voice low and even, almost bored. “The path itself will teach you. Focus, watch, don’t interfere.”And so I watched. The dimension stretched infinitely, yet I could measure it only by the flow of my own heartbeat, the rhythm of my breath. The ground—if it could be called that—shifted beneath us, sometimes solid stone, sometimes mist, sometimes the hint of nothing at all. Colours leapt in the air, spiralling, folding into themselves like ribbons caught in a storm.

~LaurentThe alley smelled of smoke and rain. Damp bricks pressed close on either side, narrow and twisting. Sunlight barely touched the cobblestones, leaving everything else in shadow. I paused, a hand brushing against the wet wall, listening.Movement. A subtle shift in the darkness. Not much, but enough.I didn’t panic. Not yet. I had learned to trust instincts sharper than fear itself.“You can come out,” I said quietly. “You’re terrible at hiding.”The shadows moved, slow, deliberate. A laugh echoed—soft, amused, familiar.“Seriously?” the voice asked. “I thought I got better at this.”I tensed. “What do you want?”“I heard you were looking for someone.”“Who told you that?” I asked, frowning.“Just a hunch,” it replied.“That’s a very specific hunch. Is that your power? Super perception?”“A bit,” the voice said. And then the figure stepped forward.Light caught the edges of its form, revealing a monster. Not grotesque, not terrifying at first glance—but definitely not human. It

~LaurentThe restaurant smelled of roasted meats and fresh bread. Sunlight spilled through the windows, cutting across the wooden tables in lazy rectangles. I sat back, watching my friends laugh. I didn’t even want to be here but they made me come insisting that it was only right we shared a meal after all what we’d been through together.There was a lot I should’ve been doing but somewhere deep inside of me, I was glad I came because for the first time in a long time, life felt… simple.Kendrix leaned back in his chair, a wide grin splitting his face.“Remember that one chimera in the eastern woods? The one that kept popping out of nowhere?” he said.Ivelle chuckled. “I don’t think I ever wanted to see a creature again so badly in my life. You nearly got yourself turned into stew.”“I was injured and I didn’t even see you doing anything to help,” Kendrix folded his arms. “Kind of reminded me of the time we went up against Calen,” Denzel started, turning to Laurent. “Just you and I,

~LaurentThe city was waking, but not with the usual murmur of ordinary mornings. Elarion exhaled in the soft crackle of rebuilding. I took it upon myself to bring Elarion back to how it was before the whole chaos that Vyrath brought with his emergence. I supervised the walls being repaired, towers being reconstructed, the faint hiss of arcane energy sealing fissures where monsters had torn through. I walked through the streets with a slow, deliberate pace, boots echoing against stone that had once been charred black. Each step carried a weight I had grown accustomed to—the quiet knowledge that the monsters, though not gone, now lived only if I permitted them to.The air smelled of wet stone and iron, the scent of the recent past that clung stubbornly to the bones of the city. I paused, letting my eyes drift across a courtyard where the first of the E-rank students were training under the watchful eyes of instructors I had appointed myself. My system had been patient, my own powe

~LaurentFor a moment, I stayed where I was.Arms locked around Ivelle. Fingers clenched in her hair. Breathing her in like proof.She was warm. Solid. Real.That mattered more than anything else.Then footsteps rushed closer, hurried and uneven, and suddenly there were too many hands on me—gripping my shoulders, my arms, my back. Voices overlapped, loud and disbelieving, saying my name like they needed to hear it out loud to be sure it was true.Kendrix laughed, sharp and breathless, the sound cracking halfway through. Denzel swore, then pulled me into a rough embrace that nearly cracked my ribs. Ciela pressed her forehead to my arm, eyes shining, lips moving soundlessly like she was counting me back into existence.I let it happen.I let them crowd me. Let them touch me like I might vanish if they didn’t. Let the noise wash over me until the ringing in my ears finally eased.For a few seconds—maybe longer—I almost believed it was over.That whatever nightmare I’d fallen through had

Lumi stopped at the final stair.For a moment, he thought he was mistaken.His father stood within the outer ring of the formation, coat immaculate as ever, hands clasped behind his back as if he were observing a board meeting rather than standing at the edge of something deeply forbidden.Opposite him stood the Blackwell patriarch, sleeves rolled to the wrist, fingers marked in ink and blood.The air above the circle rippled.Not opening.Not yet.But thinning.“Dad?”His voice sounded too loud in the underground chamber.Both men turned.The Blackwell patriarch’s expression did not shift. No panic. No guilt.Only calculation.“You were not invited,” he said mildly.Lumi’s gaze snapped to his father. “What is this?”The Calder patriarch regarded him the way one might regard an unexpected complication in an otherwise elegant equation.“We are correcting a flaw,” he said.“In what?”“In the structure of power.”The runes brightened as if punctuating the statement. Lumi stared closely a

“What? Your father? As in also a demon?” Lumi blinked. [What? You think I was given birth to by a raccoon? Of course a demon gave birth to me.]“What do you want me to do? Last time I tried meddling with demon magic, I ended up binding one to myself,” Lumi reminded.[You must go beneath the arena.]Before Lumi could respond, Scott’s staff sliced through the air toward Lumi’s shoulder. Lumi twisted aside, boots skidding across stone.“You’ve picked a brilliant time for instructions,” Lumi muttered under his breath as he ducked another strike.[Listen to me.]Scott pressed forward.A thrust.A spin.A sweep aimed at Lumi’s legs.Lumi vaulted over it, flipping cleanly before landing in a crouch.[Whatever they are doing below us must be stopped. They’re toying with what they don’t understand. If my father crosses over the same way I did—]Scott lunged again.“There’s no time for riddles,” Lumi snapped internally, blocking a downward strike that jarred his arms. “Explain so I’ll know wha

The engine cut.Silence settled around the car like a held breath.Calder estate rose ahead of them—stone pale against the afternoon sky, banners snapping in disciplined rows, sigils glowing faintly along the outer walls.Aidan was the first to step out.“Bit dramatic, isn’t it?” he muttered, shutting the door with a soft thud. “They couldn’t wait an extra hour?”Nevan rounded the bonnet, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. “It’s the Calders. They don’t wait. Very impatient family.”Cleodora stepped out last.She smoothed her sleeve.Said nothing.The gravel crunched beneath their boots as they approached the gates. Guards gave them curt nods and allowed them through without delay.Inside, the estate felt… alive.Too alive.The air vibrated faintly with gathered power.Nevan frowned. “Why does it feel like we’re late to something?”A horn sounded.Deep.Resonant.The sound rolled across the grounds and into their bones.They exchanged a look.Then quickened their pace.---They entered t

The morning air was sharp with frost when the two patriarchs stepped out onto the upper terrace overlooking the Calder arena grounds.Below them, banners snapped in the wind.Servants moved in careful lines, adjusting sigils etched into stone, polishing railings, preparing for the spectacle.The Concord Trials.Tradition dressed as honour.Power disguised as sport.The Calder patriarch adjusted the cuffs of his coat, gaze sweeping the estate with quiet satisfaction. Beside him, the Blackwell patriarch stood with his hands clasped neatly behind his back, expression composed, unreadable.Footsteps approached.Measured.Respectful.A young aide stopped several paces away and bowed deeply.“My lords.”Neither man looked at him immediately.Only when the Calder patriarch gave a small nod did the aide straighten enough to speak.“There has been… an unexpected development.”The Blackwell patriarch’s eyes shifted.“Speak.”“Scott Blackwell has just arrived at the entrance.”Silence followed.

Lumi had been walking the corridors for nearly half an hour when he felt it.A shift.Not loud.Not dramatic.Just a ripple in the air near the main entrance, like a new presence stepping across an invisible line.He turned instinctively.Through the tall arched windows lining the corridor, he could see the front courtyard below. Cars parked outside in a neat row. Hunters in formal attire moved in measured clusters, their crests pinned to lapels, their sigils faintly shimmering in anticipation of the trials.And there—At the gates.A familiar silhouette.Dark coat.Still posture.Shadows pooling faintly at his heels.Scott Blackwell.Lumi stilled.For a brief second, he simply watched.The Blackwell patriarch was nowhere in sight.No entourage.No formal procession.Just Scott, standing at the entrance as if he had arrived alone by accident.Was he their only representative or did they send him ahead to check out the competition first?Lumi descended the staircase without quite reali

Lumi woke to the sound of movement.Not voices, not shouting—just the low, constant shuffle of a house being rearranged. Fabric dragged across stone. Footsteps pacing and repacing. Metal clinking faintly, then stopping, then starting again.For a moment, he stayed where he was.The ceiling above him was unfamiliar in a way that still unsettled him. Calder ceilings were high, arched, ribbed with dark beams that looked more like cathedral bones than architecture. Even the light that filtered through the curtains felt heavier here, weighted with age and expectation.He swung his legs out of bed and dressed carefully.The clothes laid out for him were formal. Dark. Trimmed with the Calder sigil in thread so fine it was almost easy to miss. He hesitated before fastening the last clasp, fingers lingering there as if the fabric might bite back.When he stepped into the corridor, the estate was already awake.Servants moved briskly, arms full. Banners were being carried down from storage, the