Novels by Karven ash

CHAPTER 117 :Billy’s hands trembled slightly as he held the key fragment. Its energy thrummed against his palms like a living heartbeat, pulsing in resonance with his own. Unlike anything he’d experienced before, the fragment wasn’t just an object—it was aware. Responsive. Demanding recognition, alignment, and control.They had escaped the chaos of the auction hall, ducking into a narrow side corridor that led to the building’s lower maintenance levels. The dim lighting reflected off the polished steel walls, casting long, jagged shadows that twisted like living things. Tyla moved beside him, her presence steadying. She kept a hand close to his arm, grounding him through the fragment’s insistent vibrations.Billy closed his eyes, focusing inward. He could feel the fragment’s essence weaving into his own energy signature. It wasn’t malicious, but it was insistent—demanding more than passive acceptance. It wanted him to bond, to synchronize fully. And as he felt its power coiling aroun

CHAPTER 116 :The auction hall buzzed with a tension that was almost tactile. Crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across polished marble floors, bouncing off tailored suits and the glint of hidden weapons. Collectors, mercenaries, and shadow brokers mingled in a tense, orchestrated dance—everyone there a predator in a jungle of wealth and ambition.Tyla, disguised as a high-profile collector with an air of casual authority, moved through the crowd with practiced ease. Her eyes flicked to each face, memorizing microexpressions, noting the subtle shifts in posture, the hands brushing over concealed holsters.Billy stayed just out of sight, observing the energy of the room with a careful intensity. The key fragment, pulsing faintly under his coat, resonated like a heartbeat in sync with the auction’s tension. It wasn’t just a piece of relic—it was a signal, a beacon that drew attention from every corner of the globe. And right now, that attention was dangerous.“They’re all here,” O

CHAPTER 115 :The new doorway didn’t open so much as unfold, like the chamber itself was exhaling after holding secrets for too long. A ribbon of starlight stretched into the darkness, thin and soft but unmistakably deliberate, like a trail laid by something ancient that expected someone like Billy to finally step through it.Tyla clicked her lightband on. Owen checked his scanner, brows tight, but not with fear—more like he was mentally preparing for whatever twisted logic the Luoshen ruins were going to throw at them this time.“Billy,” Tyla murmured, voice steady but tender, “you lead. It’s calibrated to you.”He nodded. Not out of bravado—out of a strange, newly rooted certainty. The mirror had peeled him open, but somehow the seams came back stronger.He took the first step.The corridor responded instantly.A soft thrum echoed under his feet, almost like a heartbeat. Or maybe a recognition pulse—the ruins acknowledging another mind in the Anderson line… but one with a different

CHAPTER 114 :The doorway wasn’t really a doorway.Not in the physical sense.It looked like a vertical tear of starlight cut into the air, edges rippling like water disturbed by a silent touch. Darkness shimmered beyond it—not empty darkness, but the kind that held depth and shape, as if a whole unseen world waited on the other side.Billy stared at it, pulse steady yet charged, like his bloodstream had shifted into a higher frequency.Tyla stepped beside him, eyes narrowing. “This wasn’t in the star-map. Not even in the late-stage variations.”“Because it wasn’t part of his father’s design,” Owen added. His voice was firm but tinged with respect. “This path is responding to Billy’s signature alone. It’s uncharted. Adaptive.”Billy inhaled deeply.Good.He didn’t need another echo of Alexander’s intentions. He needed a route that matched what he had become.“Stay close,” he said quietly. “If this thing reacts to my decisions, you two might feel the fluctuations.”Tyla placed a hand l

CHAPTER 113 :Light swallowed him so completely that, for a moment, Billy wasn’t sure if he was standing, floating, or dissolving into the beam. There was no floor, no ceiling—just a suspension of thought, like his body had been peeled away and only awareness remained.Then the world snapped back.But it wasn’t the world.It was a memory.His father’s memory.Billy stood in what looked like a dimly lit command chamber, old technology humming around him—analog screens, static interference, wires coiled like veins. The air carried the metallic tang of electricity and something heavier: fear. Controlled fear.Alexander Anderson stood at the center.Young, sharp-eyed, shoulders tense with the weight of decisions he never had time to explain. Not a ghost, not a projection—this was a reconstruction of a moment carved into the fragments themselves.Billy stepped closer instinctively.“Dad…?”Alexander didn’t turn. He couldn’t—the mirror wasn’t interactive. It was a recording of consciousness

CHAPTER 112 :Something in the vault changed the moment they stepped away from the AI core.Not visually. Not physically.Just… the air.The fragments’ glow dimmed to a steadier pulse, like the room exhaled after holding its breath for too long. Billy felt the shift before he understood it—an instinctive tightening beneath his ribs, as if a thread he hadn’t noticed before had just snapped.Tyla noticed first.“Billy.”She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t panic. But there was a sharpness in her tone, like she was pulling him back from an edge he hadn’t realized he was drifting toward.He blinked. “What?”“You spaced out,” she said. “Not the normal thinking kind. The AI still has a hold on you. You’re processing more than you’re admitting.”Owen stepped closer, scanning Billy with a portable analyser. “Your neural frequencies are elevated. And your fragment resonance is… bleeding.”Billy frowned. “Bleeding?”Owen turned the scanner so Billy could see the data—his fragment synchronization