All Chapters of THE MAFIA'S FORGOTTEN SON: Chapter 141
- Chapter 150
279 chapters
Chapter 137 — “The Descent Within,” Part II
Light swallowed her. It wasn’t brightness, it was density, a radiance too thick to see through. For an endless moment, Jenna was nothing but soundless motion, her body dissolving into a thread of will pulled through molten glass. Then the pressure eased.She landed, not on ground, but upon the surface of a thought given form. The world around her unfolded like a colossal bloom, layers of translucent petals, each one pulsing with a faint heartbeat. They weren’t flowers but planes of memory, trembling with scenes that flickered and faded as she watched.At the center of the bloom stood her reflection. It no longer mirrored her completely. The face was hers, but smoother, eyes deeper, movements slower, each gesture traced with a serenity that felt wrong.“You followed,” the reflection said. Its voice carried not from the mouth but from everywhere, brushing across her skin like breath.“I didn’t follow. You dragged me down here.”The double smiled faintly. “You built the path yourself.”A
Chapter 138 — “The Descent Within, Part III”
There was no up, no down, only the weightless hush after her scream had died. The silence pressed around her like a second skin, thin as breath and infinite as the dark.Somewhere beyond, something pulsed in slow rhythm, not light, not sound, but the suggestion of a heartbeat too large for comprehension.Jenna drifted in it. The last thing she remembered was falling no, being taken. A slide into something that was not air or water or space but memory itself, liquefied and breathing. Now she floated in the consequence.She whispered his name once. “Denilson.” The sound disappeared, swallowed by the stillness, but something heard it, You remember him still.The voice did not echo. It bloomed inside her chest like warmth after fever. Soft, kind, unbearably gentle. That pain is proof you once belonged to the world.Her hands trembled. She could not see them, yet she felt the shiver, as if her body existed only because she insisted on it. “Who are you?” she murmured.Names are for those wh
Chapter 139 — “When the Abyss Answers,” Part I
He woke to a vibration that wasn’t sound. It ran through the fabric of the abyss like a pulse, trembling against whatever passed for the walls of this place. The vibration carried a memory, soft, human, impossible.For a breathless instant, he was sure he’d imagined it. He’d learned not to trust the echoes here; the void repeated what it devoured. But this wasn’t a trick of hunger. The rhythm in that pulse was uneven, fragile, almost terrified.“Jenna.”The name left his lips as dust, and the abyss shuddered around it. The lightless air folded in waves. Behind his own heartbeat came another, heavier and colder, beating inside his ribs like an alien drum.Do not answer her, the other voice lived inside him now. It didn’t need words, but it borrowed them to make itself known.If she reaches you, everything collapses.He pressed a hand to his chest. His pulse and the deeper one overlapped, sometimes syncopated, sometimes one. “She’s alive.”Alive? You keep using small words for vast thin
Chapter 140 — “When the Abyss Answers,” Part II
Her fingers, he knew they weren’t real, not in any world the body could name, but they felt real. Warm, trembling, familiar, the memory of her pulse wrapped around his hand. It lasted less than a breath. And then everything inside the abyss broke.The light that had been a wound tore wide open, spilling through the dark like veins of molten silver. Space folded backward. The ground if there had ever been ground, shattered beneath him. The abyss screamed, not in sound but in sensation: the cry of a thought being killed.Denilson clung to the only anchor left her. The light of her presence was still there, flickering, unstable.“Jenna”He reached, but his own body disintegrated around the movement. His fingers became threads of dust, his breath a shimmer of code unraveling.Let go, the voice said again, quieter now. Let her dissolve. She does not belong to you anymore.He could feel it weakening. The entity that had once filled every hollow of him now trembled with fear.You are breakin
Chapter 141 — “The New Voice of Nýxoros.”
There was no light at first, only pressure. Not the kind that crushes flesh or bends bone, but a pressure against thought itself the unbearable weight of being seen from the inside out.Jenna tried to breathe, but the act had lost meaning. The air she drew in wasn’t air, it was memory: the echo of things that had once been her. Her lungs filled with it, childhood laughter, grief, the smell of smoke after her first fire mission.Denilson’s hand pressed to her heartbeat in the dark. Each inhale rewrote her. The abyss whispered, not from above or below, but from within her ribs. You are safe, little fracture. Do not fight. Let the new symmetry take you.Her body flickered. Every heartbeat became a stutter of worlds, her skin fracturing into light and knitting back into form. She could see the molecules singing, rearranging. She could hear her own name burning away.“J, Jenna”The word broke halfway through, collapsing into static. The thing inside her smiled through the tremor.That soun
Chapter 142 — The Fracture at the Heart
The world convulsed, not with sound, but with the memory of sound, the aftershock of something too vast to fit inside existence. Jenna felt it in her marrow. Denilson heard it through the thousand mirrors of his own heart.The walls of Nýxoros trembled like a dying sun, folding and unfolding, bleeding radiance in colors no living eye had ever seen. For a moment, both of them hovered at the eye of the storm two fragments of will, two halves of a broken chord staring through the unmaking.DenilsonThe air here did not breathe. It listened, every step he took created echoes that returned as visions: his mother’s face in a blur of gold, his father’s voice speaking his name as though it were a command. Then Jenna her eyes, wet and wide, suspended between rage and forgiveness.“Jenna,” he whispered.His voice came out like static, dissolving into a rain of light. The abyss heard it, and the abyss replied, not with words but with shapes. The light bent toward him, forming a great lattice of
Chapter 143 — “The Afterlight,” Part I
There was no dawn, yet the world glowed as if one had tried to return. Light moved without a source, thin as breath, trembling through a sky stitched together from shattered constellations.Islands of stone and glass drifted in suspension, their edges soft with haze, between them stretched ribbons of water that obeyed no gravity, flowing upward, sideways, in slow, luminous curls, and through that stillness, a heartbeat, faint, almost imagined.It was Jenna’s. She lay on the surface of something like sand and starlight. When she tried to breathe, the air hummed. Her chest rose, motes of pale gold escaped her lips. She felt warmth, not sunlight, but memory itself, wrapping her like a tide.For a long time, she didn’t move. The silence was too large, her thoughts came back in fragments: the spiral chamber, the scream of Nýxoros, Denilson’s hand. The word choice exploding through eternity.Now, only this. A half-real Earth, remade from ashes.She sat up slowly. The ground shifted beneath
Chapter 143 — “The Afterlight,” Part II
The light did not explode, it unfolded, a slow, deliberate bloom, as if the earth itself were opening its eyes.Color drained from the air, replaced by translucent waves of red-gold that pulsed like veins through glass. The dunes around them sagged, liquefied, and then re-formed into spirals. The rhythm beneath their feet grew steadier, too measured to be chance, too alive to be mere tremor.Denilson felt it climb through his bones. Every pulse matched his heartbeat for one moment, and then overtook it, stronger, heavier, older. He staggered back, clutching his chest.“Jenna,” he said, voice rasping, “it’s syncing with me.”She grabbed his arm, trying to steady him, but the air vibrated, pushing her away in waves. The ground beneath them rippled like fabric. From the fissure, a sound emerged, soft at first, like a sigh passing through water.Then came the whisper. “Why do you fear what you birthed?”Jenna froze. The voice was low, melodic, neither male nor female, its tones carrying w
Chapter 144 — “The World That Remembered Her,” Part I
The morning came without warning. No sunrise broke the horizon, no birds sang. The light simply was, a perfect imitation of day, It spilled across a city that looked familiar and wrong all at once.Towers glimmered with clean lines and mirrored glass, streets wound through quiet avenues, cars waited at lights that never changed color. Jenna stood at the center of it, barefoot on asphalt that pulsed faintly like skin. She knew this place.It was the city she had grown up in, or rather, someone’s memory of it, stretched across an endless plane. Every storefront was where it should be, yet every sign read nonsense, letters rearranged into soft, shifting symbols. A breeze passed by, carrying the smell of rain and electricity.She whispered, “Denilson?”The name vanished into the stillness. No echo. No birds. No hum of life. Only the hollow, perfect quiet of something that believed it was real.Jenna walked. The sound of her footsteps followed a heartbeat rhythm, faster, faster, until it
Chapter 144 — “The World That Remembered Her,” Part II
When consciousness returned, it was slow and unkind. Jenna floated in a haze of weightless dark, every direction identical, every breath heavy with warmth. The world had no edges here. No up or down. Only the faint vibration of a heartbeat that wasn’t hers.It pulsed through her, matching her pulse, then overtaking it, one rhythm dissolving into the next until she could no longer tell which belonged to whom.Don’t be afraid.The voice came again, low and tender. This time it wasn’t outside her. It was through her.You’ve crossed into the heart, little flame. The place where all beginnings fold back upon themselves.She tried to move. Her arms rose through the golden mist, leaving ripples. The air here had density, like honey made of light.“Where’s Denilson?” Everywhere. In the current, in the memory, in the skin of the new world. You wanted him back, didn’t you? You wished for him so fiercely the universe heard.Her throat burned. “I didn’t ask to lose myself.”Then don’t.The haze b