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Prepared
The sun hadn’t risen yet.Not fully.It only sat behind the ridges of the Western mountains like a tired flame, throwing pale light across the stone paths that led to the outer fields. The Kingdom had barely stirred. No birds yet, no sounds of boots, or the usual blacksmith hammering. But in the training field just before the edge of the cliff, where the wind howled and carried the scent of pine and distant smoke, one girl moved.She wasn’t dressed in armor.Only in thin, battle-worn cloth — black, grey, and stitched in places where her strikes had torn through them. Her boots were stained, one strap missing, and her gloves were cut at the knuckles. Her long hair had been tied up with a simple ribbon, the same color as her eyes — pale gold.She was breathing heavily. But not from exhaustion.From control.Discipline.Her sword was already planted in the ground. She had finished the first form over two hours ago. And the second. And the third. And the fourth. And now, she sat cross-leg
Two Gods
The sky was silver tonight.Not bright. Not dark. Just silver. Like someone had poured old metal across the clouds and left it still.Two figures sat beneath that sky, on an ancient ledge that rested beyond the stars, far above the realm of mortals. It was a quiet place. A place where time didn’t tick, but drifted.The first god, *Renoir*, sat with his hands folded behind his back. His robe was simple—dark green, soft folds running down his shoulder. He didn’t wear a crown, nor did he need one. His skin glowed faintly, like wet stone under the moonlight. His hair was tied behind him in a low knot, thin strands drifting as the breeze passed.Beside him sat *Durei*, a quieter god. He wore white, stitched carefully with dull silver threads. His sleeves were long enough to hide his hands, and his shoes never touched the ground. He floated slightly above the rock, legs crossed, looking up at the sky with thoughtful eyes.“I don’t like it,” Renoir said after a while, his voice deep but rela
bad void
s Yes the darkness is something to be truly afraid of mo yu are devoured instantly by the void It was supposed to be another day of forest work. Nothing new. Five people—Ayo, Blessing, Jide, Ruth, and Tolu—were hired to clear paths deep in the woods where trees had grown thick and wild. They packed up tools, water, and a few snacks. Birds chirped lightly above as they walked down the first trail. It was quiet, peaceful, too calm for a forest with so much depth.Tolu, who had worked there before, led the way. He said there was a zone nobody liked going near. Rumors, old stories. People claimed they’d heard voices, some saw strange light. But the team didn’t care about myths—they were there to earn their pay.Hours passed as they walked further, cutting branches and marking trees. Then, Ruth spotted something odd ahead. Not a tree. Not a rock. It was a Gate. Not like a gate from a house. This one looked older than anything they'd ever seen. Tall, built from some dark, shiny stone. Carv
The Doorstone
The hall of the Blood Ritual Altar stood silent, like even sound had been forgotten. Stones were chipped. Walls were marked by old claws. Torches flickered without fire, giving no light, only shape. Cold moved through the air like a living thing, slow and watching.In the center of the hall, the Doorstone waited.Not glowing. Not moving. Just sitting, like it always had. Valtor stood a few steps away, arms crossed, face blank, but eyes filled with questions. His boots made no echo. His breath didn’t show in the air. Nothing moved around him. Except the shadows.Then a voice came.Not from the walls. Not from the air. But from the shadow behind him—growing long and deep like it had been waiting. The voice belonged to the Shadow Monarch. Old. Heavy. Not angry, not kind. Just... knowing.“You stand near the stone like you understand it,” said the Monarch. “But you don’t. You feel trapped, so you look at the Doorstone like it owes you a way out. It does not.”Valtor turned, just a little,
The Who and The What
"Huhhhhhhhh?," Valtor struggled to get free from the tight grip, only to be carried up from the darkness of the Void."What exactly is wrong with you," The Shadow Monarch asked, his brows furrowed, "Or do you want to explore Death's Nest?.."Valtor eyes moved to the depth of the darkness, before answering, "I only wanted to go on an adventure..."Waving off this words, the Shadow Monarch replied. He said, "You want to explore the darkness, and all these, because?... You don't know that even the darkness has limits?.."Valtor frowned, mirroring his expression, "And what do you know about the darkness that which, build you up?..""I am born of and from the void, the abyss is my home, the Shadow Realm, the womb. Of course, it is exactly what builds me up, and for your information," He moved an inch close, "You should know that falling into the darkness would bring you zero hope of leaving the Dark Mansion.."Valtor eyes went wide opened, "How do... How did you know that..""We Monarchs a
The Void
The Void Loop was a realm beyond the mortal world, a place where time and space lost all meaning. It was a dimension of eternal darkness, where the laws of physics were twisted and distorted. The Void Loop was home to countless dead entities, each with their own lost unique existence and purpose.At the heart of the Void Loop lay the Void itself, a vast and formless expanse of nothingness. The Void was not just an absence of being, but a presence that exerted its own influence over the Loop. It was a gravitational force that drew in all manner of creatures, some seeking power, others seeking escape.Despite its name, the Void was not empty. It was inhabited by beings that defied conventional understanding. These entities existed outside the bounds of reality, their forms blurring and shifting like the shadows on a moonless night. They moved with a purpose, driven by motivations that were beyond human comprehension.The Void Loop was divided into different realms, each with its own dis
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