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Chapter 440: He Has Returned!
"It's nothing," Ella said, her voice too light, too airy for the weight in the room. "Just... a weird dream I had. About fancy parties and babies. Forget I said anything."She turned her back, her movements jerky as she rescued the charring toast, scraping the blackened edges into the sink with a sound like grating bones. She could feel Irene's gaze on her, a laser of terrified love, boring into her shoulder blades."Ella..." Irene began again, her voice trembling with the effort of holding back the flood."I said it's nothing, Mom!" The words came out sharper than Ella intended, a lash of frustration born of fear. She winced at her own tone, but didn't turn around. "The toast is ruined. I'll make more."The next few minutes passed in a stilted, horrible parody of a normal morning. They ate in a silence thick enough to choke on. Irene picked at her eggs, her eyes constantly flicking to Ella's face, searching for cracks. Ella kept her gaze fixed on her plate, the food tasting like ash
Chapter 439: Victor Vaughan's Return!
The outer space where forgotten things pooled and echoes sounded like roars, began to take shape. It was a bridge woven from silence and regret, spanning the chasm between what was and what might have been.Here, the air didn’t move. It crystallized, forming intricate, despairing fractals of frost in the void. In the center of this non-place, Victor Vaughan took form. And then, with the grace of a maestro acknowledging a silent audience, he took a slow, deep bow.The silence that followed was not empty. It was a listening silence.“Do not fail this time.”The Voice did not come from anywhere. It was the vacuum, the cold certainty at the heart of the entropy Victor worshipped. It was neither male nor female, but ancient, patient, and utterly devoid of mercy.Victor did not straighten abruptly. He rose with deliberate reverence, as if lifting a great weight. “I will not disappoint,” he said, his own voice a smooth, cultured contrast to the formless chill of the Voice. It held a fervent,
Chapter 438: The Convergence Born!
Jackson’s consciousness, unmoored from his physical shell, was a compass needle spun free. In the vast, silent theatre of his fugue, there was no grey fog, only a brilliant, straining focus. And at the heart of that focus was a pull that led him straight to Ella who was in her small bedroom above the quiet mill.And just as though, she had sensed the presence of someone in her room, Ella jolted upright in bed. The room was dark, the digital clock reading 3:17 a.m. And just when she was trying to understand the reason behind the strange feeling that had enveloped her room, she saw Jackson standing in the center of the room. He was translucent, shimmering like a mirage, but his features were sharp. He looked gaunt, haunted, but his eyes burned with a recognition that stole her breath. She knew that face. She’d seen it in it severally in the news and even recently when she was digging into the Hart's archives.However, the man she was looking t right now, was looking at her as if she
Chapter 437: In Less Than A Week!
Dr. Evans arrived swiftly, his face a mask of professional intrigue as he reviewed the neural scans and vitals. After several minutes of silent analysis, he turned to Bella, who stood rigidly by the wall, arms wrapped around herself.“He’s conscious,” Dr. Evans said, his voice low with a kind of awe. “But it’s a self-induced fugue state. His higher brain functions are hyper-focused, lit up like a city at night, but they’ve completely disengaged from his motor cortex and somatic senses. It’s a deliberate, profound inward focus. I’ve never seen anything like it.”Before Bella could process this, the door swung open.Ruth rushed in, her face pale and streaked with tears she’d clearly been shedding since Bella’s frantic, emotional phone call with Gilbert following close behind.“Jackson!” Ruth gasped, rushing to the bedside. She reached for his still hand, but hesitated, seeing his closed eyes. She looked frantically from her son to Bella. “What happened? Bella, you said he was awake!”“H
Chapter 436: Jackson, can you hear me?!
“Why me?” Jackson asked, his dream-voice choked with a grief that was both old and new. “Why has this always been my fight?”Philip’s eyes, already fading into the consuming grey, held a deep and ancient sorrow. “Because you were there when the breach first opened, when you stood against Victor. You didn’t just fight him, son. You wounded him. Your spirit, your will, became a shard embedded in his essence. A flaw in his perfect, frozen design. Your very existence is an affront to him.”The last of the porch was gone. Philip was now only a faint silhouette of light, but his words were iron.“That’s why he will come for her, the Convergence-Born. To use her power as the final key to his global winter. But he will come for you first. Not just to remove an obstacle, but to erase the proof that he can be hurt. You are the man who once stood in his way. You are the living memory of his failure. To achieve his ‘Gilded Frost,’ he must first extinguish your spark.”The finality of it settled o
Chapter 435: The Dreamscape!
Jackson’s consciousness drifted in a formless grey fog space of his coma as sounds from the hospital became distorted echoes.Suddenly, the fog before him shimmered like a heat haze. It didn’t part so much as reconfigured, pixels of memory assembling with painful, perfect clarity. The grey bled into the rich grain of weathered cedar planks and the sterile silence shattered into the chorus of a summer afternoon accompanied by a sweet scent of pipe tobacco.“You’ve lingered here long enough, son.”Philip’s voice was both gentle and urgent, a tone Jackson remembered from boyhood scraped knees and, later, from the first terrifying Watcher briefings. It brooked no argument, yet was woven through with an undeniable love.Jackson tried to speak, to ask the thousand questions that had dissolved in the fog. All that emerged was a wave of feeling—overwhelming grief for time lost, confusion at this impossible place, and a childlike relief so potent it was agony.“The anchor’s frayed,” Philip co
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