2025-09-12 19:53:44The Sterling Industries tower pierced the night sky like a crystalline spear, its surface alive with swirling magical energies that painted rainbow patterns across the glass. New Year's Eve had transformed the building's top floors into a glittering wonderland of supernatural excess. Floating chandeliers dripped liquid starlight while enchanted ice sculptures moved and danced of their own accord.
Marcus stepped through the main entrance, his simple black jeans and plain white shirt a stark contrast to the sea of designer gowns and tailored tuxedos surrounding him. Lamborghinis with phoenix-fire exhaust and Bentleys that hovered six inches off the ground lined the circular drive, their supernatural modifications gleaming under the mystical streetlights. The security guards—two hulking werewolves in expensive suits—barely glanced at him as he walked past. These days, even the most powerful supernatural beings often masqueraded as ordinary humans. Good, Marcus thought, surveying the opulent ballroom. The less attention, the better. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't eaten since leaving the hidden realm. The buffet table stretched along the far wall like an altar to culinary excess—lobster tails the size of small dragons, caviar that sparkled with actual diamonds, and fruits that glowed with inner light. Marcus loaded his plate without ceremony, grabbed two crystal flutes of champagne that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent, and found a quiet corner to eat. The food was exceptional, though he barely tasted it. "Look at that guy," a woman in a silver gown whispered loudly enough for half the room to hear. "Did he just walk in off the street?" Her companion, a man with obviously enhanced supernatural features, snickered. "Probably some has-been trying to relive his glory days. Pathetic." "I heard he's been wandering around the supernatural district like some kind of drifter," added another voice. "Someone should call security before he steals the silverware." Marcus continued eating, unbothered by their commentary. "Seriously, who let this nobody crash our celebration?" A young woman with vampire fangs clicked her tongue in disgust. "He looks like he bought his clothes at a thrift store." If only they knew, Marcus mused, taking another sip of champagne. Though I suppose even gods can shop for bargains. The whispers grew louder, more vicious. "Is that ketchup on his shirt? At a Sterling Industries gala?" "I bet he doesn't even have supernatural blood. Probably just some delusional human." "Someone should throw him out before he embarrasses himself further." Thomas Sterling materialized through the crowd like a predator scenting weakness. The head of Sterling family security stood six-foot-four with the build of someone who settled disputes with violence. His supernatural aura crackled with barely contained aggression. "Excuse me," Thomas's voice cut through the party chatter like a blade. "Do you have an invitation to this event?" Marcus looked up from his plate, chewing thoughtfully. "No." The crowd around them went silent, sensing drama. Thomas's jaw tightened. "Then I'm afraid you'll need to leave. This is a private function." "I'm not invited," Marcus said calmly, setting down his champagne. "I'm Diana's fiancé. I came because of our family contract." The silence stretched for exactly three seconds before the laughter erupted. "Did he just say fiancé?" someone gasped between fits of giggling. "Diana Sterling's fiancé? Oh my god, this is rich!" "Lady, you hear that? This street rat thinks he's engaged to the most powerful woman in supernatural Manhattan!" Thomas's face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. "You delusional piece of trash! Diana Sterling is the CEO of Sterling Industries. She's got more class in her pinky finger than you've got in your entire worthless existence!" More laughter rippled through the gathering crowd. "This is the best entertainment we've had all night!" a woman shrieked. "He actually believes it!" "Someone get this on video. Diana's going to die laughing when she sees this fool." "What's next? Is he going to claim he's the lost prince of some fairy kingdom?" Marcus stood slowly, his movements fluid and controlled. "Take me to my fiancée." The laughter grew even louder. "Take him to Diana!" someone shouted mockingly. "Oh please, someone get Diana down here to meet her 'beloved'!" "I'm sure she's been waiting her whole life for Prince Charming here!" Thomas's supernatural energy flared, his eyes glowing with rage. "You worthless nobody! You think you can waltz in here and mock the Sterling family?" Without warning, Thomas threw a punch enhanced with supernatural force that could have shattered concrete. The air itself seemed to crack from the impact. Marcus caught the fist in his palm without even shifting his weight. Thomas's eyes went wide as his enhanced strength met an immovable wall. He pulled back, stumbling, his face pale with shock. That power, Marcus thought as another memory fragment pierced his consciousness. Standing before legions of supernatural warriors, his voice booming across battlefield dimensions, reality itself bending to his will as he led the charge against cosmic threats. "Impossible," Thomas whispered. "Security!" someone screamed. "Get security!" Eight guards rushed in, their enchanted weapons glowing with deadly energy. Swords that could cut through dimensional barriers, staffs crackling with binding spells, nets woven with silver starlight. Marcus moved. What happened next defied comprehension. One moment the guards were charging with supernatural speed and magical weapons. The next, all eight were unconscious on the marble floor, their weapons scattered like toys. No one had seen him move. No one had seen the strikes. It was as if time itself had skipped. "What the hell..." Thomas backed away, his face white with terror. Marcus dusted off his hands dismissively. "Is that really the best Sterling security has to offer? I've seen children with more fight in them." The crowd stood frozen in absolute silence, their mockery replaced by raw fear. "Pathetic," Marcus continued, his voice carrying casual contempt. "No wonder supernatural crime runs rampant in this city if these weaklings are supposed to be protecting it." Who is this man? The thought echoed through every mind in the room. More security poured in from the corridors, alerted by the commotion. Dozens of guards with advanced magical weapons, their faces grim with purpose. Marcus sighed, cracking his knuckles. "More toys to break?" "ENOUGH!"
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
The Gathering of Ages
It called to those who had lost their way, igniting a flicker of hope in their hearts. As the sky shimmered with the brilliance of rebirth, whispers of destiny began to weave through the air, promising a new era of light and awakening.Diana stood alone in the field of white fire, her golden armor cracked and gleaming faintly in the afterglow of her choice. In her palm burned the last ember of the First Flame—small, but infinite. Its warmth was both comfort and burden, a heartbeat that wasn’t hers yet pulsed in perfect rhythm with her soul.But she wasn’t alone for long.The air before her shimmered — ripples forming as if time itself bent to bow. From the distortion stepped a tall figure cloaked in shadows and starlight, his eyes glowing like molten bronze. His voice was low, resonant, and timeless.“Diana, daughter of Catherine,” he said. “You’ve done what few ever dared.”“Chronos,” she whispered. “The Keeper of Ages.” He inclined his head slightly, though the air around him crackl
The Children of the First Flame
A hushed silence enveloped the scene, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder echoing through the valley. As the storm clouds gathered, a flicker of hope ignited among the survivors; perhaps this was not the end, but a chance to rebuild from the ashes of their past.Marcus stood at the center of the ruin, his sword of crimson light dim against the ash-laden sky. Every breath he took hurt; divine blood still trickled down his side, black and glimmering like molten glass. Around him, soldiers bowed their heads, waiting for a word, a signal—anything that meant this war had ended, but the sky said otherwise.The clouds above twisted into a vortex of violet fire. Bolts of light fell like spears. And in the heart of that storm, something ancient stirred—not a god nor man, but the echo of both. The air crackled with energy, charged with the weight of forgotten legends and unspoken destinies. As the soldiers exchanged anxious glances, the ground beneath them trembled, resonating with the
Shadows of the Living and the Lost
All the storm was over and it had left the resoundig thunder, all of broken clouds that hunged so low, even over the charred plains, their edges were glowing in the pale dawn of light. The battlefield still smoked of graveyard of the angels and of men.Marcus was standing at the edge of the crater, the mark of divine fire was still burning across his arms, so faintly, the warlord who had once commanded the legions of gods looked like a man who had just lost everything his cloak was so torn and his armor had cracked, in his eyes, it was golden and fierce but it burnt of purpose, yet inside of it, it was hollow.He had felt her spirit vanish — Catherine’s, spirit all the quiet gentleness that had once anchored the chaos of heaven. Her death had been the spark that had shattered everything, and even though the centuries had passed since that night, the guilt still followed him now like a curse.Now, she was gone for good, and Alaric — her husband — would never forgive him.In all the di
The Mother’s Secret
The rain hammered as the windows were open, all like a violent rhythm, the candle lighttrembked against the Citadel walls and a sought entry.Diana stood in the hall of so many mirrors, the unopened letter in her trembling hands. It was Catherine’s seal — a sun that was surrounded by twelve broken circles — all seemed almost alive under the flame. It had been her mother’s private mark, used only for messages she never intended to be found. At least not easily. Darion stood far as he watched her, he said nothing, he knew this was not just a message for him, he knew it was not meant for the council, or even the gods it was for Diana Sterling alone.She had broken the seal and the parchment had cracked as she had done the unfolding of it, the air had grew so heavy as it charged with the residue of the ancient magic, her mothers voice began like an echo itwasread softly from the page all weaving through the storms roar.“My dearest daughter… if these words have found you, then it means t
The First Prophecy
A lot with memory the citadel was crimson at dawn, Diana stood at the balcony which was highest, the cold wind crushing and brushing all the strnada of her silver hair across her face, she could see the healing, the cities all rising from ashes, the mortals lighting fires again and all the rivers running clear of all the scars of the war.Beneath all these was a fragile peace, she could feel it—the subtle tremor in the fabric of all the creation, Marcus words haunted her, "If the Accord could be so broken once, it can be broken yet again, just find the blade and find me.”The sword, The Verradun,now rested right beside her, all in glowing faint right under the dawn light, it all hummed some matched heartbeat which matched her, it was calm but yet watchful. She could sense all his essence it was steady and buried so deep within just like a weapon of sleeping flame.The primal Lords all lingered heavier than all its memory, the ones who has existed before all the gods and the light itse
The war after Peace
Right that Monday morning, after all the storm had made its final end and all was quiet, the valet of spears all in a heart of some divine chaos, the blades all broken, the amir shattered, a faint shimmer of magic scattering across all the scorched ground, there laid a silence that stretched over like some prayer that was half remembered.At the center she stood there as the wind was tugging toward her hair, Diana looked before and Verradun and Marcus's sword were all embedded into the earth, the blazing runes had become faint and the heartbeat within just lingered a little deeper. She knelt Dian brushing her hands over the blade, the metal all warm as she spoke “You’re still here,” she whispered. “I can feel you.” her words trembled as she said them.Behind her, the footsteps became crunched all over the burnt soil, Darion was approaching and his expression weighed so much sorrow of so many immortals who had carried it to the endless, quiet and have resigned, "The rift is all sealed
You may also like
THE SECRET HEIR AND HIS SECRET POWER
Wednesday Adaire165.6K viewsSecretly The Billionaire Boss
Debbie chocolate 2.4M viewsAn Understated Dominance
Marina Vittori11.1M viewsBecoming A Trillionaire After Divorce
Esther Writes70.8K viewsMONEY MAKES THE WORLD SPIN
Fortune Writes191 viewsKICKED LIKE A DOG, RETURNED LIKE A HIDDEN HEIR
Thewitchwriter419 viewsJAMES WANE THE SECRET BILLIONAIRE
SHSA65.5K viewsThe Death Lord Is Back
Perfect Pen6.0K views