Novels by Unique smyle

The Progenitors rose from their prisons like gods waking from a nightmare, and Lincoln could only watch.He lay on the cold stone of the forge, barely conscious, his body broken, his soul empty. The void was gone. The power that had defined him for so long was gone. He was just a man now fragile, mortal, helpless.And the Progenitors were free.They emerged from the shattered prisons one by one, their vast forms filling the void like storms filling a sky. They were terrible and beautiful, ancient and powerful beyond measure. Some were shaped like humans, others like Elders, others like nothing Lincoln had ever seen. They were beings of pure thought and will, and their presence made the void tremble.Kaela was beside him, her blade drawn, her body positioned between him and the emerging gods. Sylara and Vorlag flanked her, their forms dim with fear but steady with resolve."Stay behind us," Kaela said. "Don't move."Lincoln wanted to argue. He wanted to stand. But his body would not ob

The ritual required everything, and Lincoln had nothing left to give.He stood at the heart of the original forge, the void energy swirling around him like a hurricane. Kaela, Sylara, and Vorlag stood at the edges of the chamber, their faces pale with fear. They had tried to stop him. They had begged him to find another way. But Lincoln had made his choice."The geas is forged," he said, his voice steady. "Now I have to free them. All of them. And to do that, I have to give up the void.""No," Kaela whispered. "Lincoln, please. There has to be another way.""There isn't. The void is the key. It's the connection between worlds. If I want to free the Progenitors without destroying reality, I have to sever that connection. I have to become mortal again.""You'll be powerless. You'll be vulnerable. You'll be""Free." Lincoln smiled. "I'll be free."He turned to face the forge. The void energy pulsed around him, vast and ancient, waiting for his command. He reached out with his mind, touch

The void was shaking, and Lincoln felt every tremor in his bones.He returned to the chamber where Kaela, Sylara, and Vorlag were waiting, his face pale, his eyes burning with violet-gold light. They saw him coming and rose to their feet, their expressions a mixture of hope and fear."What happened?" Kaela demanded. "What did it say?"Lincoln told them. Everything. The eldest Progenitor's offer. The history of the Progenitors. The truth about the prison. The choice he had to make.When he finished, the silence was heavy."You can't trust it," Sylara said, her form flickering with distress. "The Progenitors are ancient. They have been imprisoned for billions of years. Their minds are not like ours. They will say anything to be free.""I know," Lincoln said. "But I also know what it feels like to be imprisoned. To be trapped in the dark, desperate for freedom. The Elders were the same. And you deserved to be free.""W

The forge was not a place. It was a memory, and Lincoln was about to step inside it.He stood at the edge of the structure a sphere of pure void energy, pulsing with the heartbeat of creation. It was beautiful and terrible, a monument to the moment when the first sentient races had made the choice to imprison the Progenitors."This is it," Sylara whispered. "The birthplace of the prison. The source of all void energy.""It feels... alive," Kaela said, her hand on her blade."It is alive," Vorlag replied. "It is the first thought, the first choice, the first act of creation. It has been waiting for someone to enter it since before time began."Lincoln took a deep breath. He could feel the void energy within him resonating with the forge, singing a song of recognition. The eight Elders he had absorbed were silent, awed by the presence of something so ancient."I have to go in alone," he said."No," Kaela said immediat

The prison was a wound in reality, and it was bleeding.Lincoln stood at the edge of the structure, staring up at its impossible geometry. It was not a building. It was not a fortress. It was a contradiction walls that curved in on themselves, corridors that led both forward and backward at the same time, towers that stretched into dimensions that should not exist."This is it," Sylara whispered. "The first prison. The one built by the sentient races to contain the Progenitors.""It's beautiful," Vorlag said, his voice filled with awe. "And terrible."Lincoln drew the void blade. The golden light flickered against the dark stone, illuminating runes that pulsed with a faint, ancient light. "How do we get inside?""There is no inside," Sylara replied. "The prison is not a place. It is a state of being. To enter, you must surrender to it. Let it guide you.""That sounds like a trap.""It is. But it is the only way."

Last Updated: 2026-10-04