Chapter 225
Author: Perfect Pen
last update2025-05-31 19:55:30

It began with a shiver.

Not a cold one. Not a nervous one. Something else. Something ancient—older than skin and older than blood. A tremor that ran down the axis of the world and up the vertebrae of the one who carried its curse.

Selene stood in the half-light of a broken dawn, in a world patched together by too many hands. The air around her was too still, like a held breath, or a moment suspended in the margins of time. Her breath caught—not from pain, but from memory. Not hers alone, but something bigger. Heavier. Collected.

Her fingers trembled, as if sensing what her mind had not yet allowed itself to know.

And then—steadied.

Then trembled again.

Reality warped around her heartbeat. Every second seemed to last a lifetime. The wind refused to stir. The birds that had once nested in the skeletal remains of the ancient trees did not sing. Even the sun dared only peek halfway through the clouds, as if unwilling to fully witness what she was becoming.

From the fractured edge of a mem
Continue to read this book for free
Scan the code to download the app

Latest Chapter

  • Chapter 238

    Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping for air that didn’t exist in this Architect-haunted dreamspace. The crystal glyphs still shimmered faintly around him like the nerves of a dying mind, flickering with old code and unfinished songs. Selene’s blood, dark against the blank-white terrain, still steamed on the ground where she had stabbed herself to keep him anchored.But Kael was already sinking.The Architect’s final words echoed in his bones.“I never left. You carried me.”And suddenly the pain began.Not physical—memory pain.Kael’s breath hitched as his mind split open.He saw himself—again and again and again—fractured across timelines, across wars, across realities both known and unmade.One Kael burning a city from the sky because someone whispered a lie into his ear.One Kael sitting on a throne made of Selene’s bones.One Kael cradling a daughter he let die because he was afraid of becoming a father.One Kael begging the Architect for order in a universe that made no sense.T

  • Chapter 237

    The light faded behind them, and the breath of reality ceased. No stars. No wind. No sound. Only the blank white void where a world used to be—a place once called the Cradle of the Architect, now wiped of all features, stripped of narrative, reduced to a silence that felt sentient.Kael stepped into it first.The moment his foot touched the groundless plane, something shifted. Not around him—within him. He had expected a shattered world, the kind of place scorched by divine fire or haunted by ghosts of the multiverse. Instead, what lay before them was not a place at all. It was a shape, ever-shifting—made of instinct, memory, and fear. Not terrain. Mind.“It’s you,” Selene whispered, standing at his side. Her voice was quieter than usual, not out of fear, but reverence. “This whole place… Kael, it’s your mind.”Elias frowned, hand on his sword. “No. Not just his. Look closer.”And then they all saw it—the world before them rearranging not into buildings or mountains or skies—but into

  • Chapter 236

    There was no sky—only rhythm.There was no time—only recurrence.The Library had become something more than a sanctuary now. It was a conductor’s chamber, orchestrating the swelling surge of reborn realities with each resonant pulse. The bleeding pen had vanished, dissolved into the luminous pattern it had inscribed across the floor, leaving behind no artifact—only an active legacy.A living symphony that could not be stopped.Kael stood, stunned, as the walls around him flexed and shimmered with possibility. No longer just bookshelves of bound fates, the Library had become a prism for the multiverse, a gateway through which lost timelines breathed once more.And then, the worlds began to return.⸻First came the flickers.Ghost-light silhouettes rippled across the air, like memories forming skin. Rooms blurred and blinked between dimensions. The sound of rustling pages gave way to birdsong in some distant land, replaced an instant later by the hush of wind over a glassy sea.Then cam

  • Chapter 235

    The floor of the Library had once been smooth white stone—blank, cold, unyielding to time. But now, it pulsed. Not with light, but with meaning. The bleeding pen—Kael’s last tool, the relic he had laid down to abandon authorship—lay trembling in the center of the grand chamber. Alone, it had begun to move.No hand touched it. No voice commanded it.And yet it wrote.Not in lines. Not in letters. Not even in the intricate, ancient glyphs of the Authors’ forgotten tongue. What bled from its impossible tip was song. The lines it traced into the polished floor glowed like liquid gold—and the symbols it etched sang.Kael stood frozen, breath caught between awe and fear. Every movement the pen made left behind a phrase that was not just readable but audible—like staves of a celestial orchestra, invisible instruments tuning to an unknowable scale. The glyphs shifted as they formed, looping into themselves, rethreading across the floor in widening circles. Not a story. Not a prophecy. Somethi

  • Chapter 234

    The world had gone quiet.Not silent—there was always sound in a place built of memory and meaning—but it was quiet in that sacred way a cathedral is quiet, right before a prayer breaks the air. The Library of Unwritten Fates trembled beneath their feet, no longer vast, no longer eternal. It was closing. Folding. Preparing for a final truth it could neither author nor deny.The quill—no longer silver, no longer innocent—hovered at the center of the room, suspended in a column of flickering light.Its feather was forged from threads of every timeline Kael had touched.Its ink dripped from a reservoir no one could see but everyone could feel.Unfiltered memory. Undiluted truth. The cost of being remembered.Pamela took a step forward and gasped as her knees buckled.Her hands flew to her eyes as sobs ripped from her throat. Marcus caught her before she collapsed entirely.“Don’t look at it,” he hissed, his voice strained and hoarse. “You’ll see everything you could’ve been. Everything y

  • Chapter 233

    The library trembled.Not from footsteps, nor voice, nor storm—but from the memory of things that had once mattered.The walls, impossibly tall and curving into the shape of an eye that had long since gone blind, pulsed with whispers—echoes of forgotten fates. Runes etched themselves across the pillars like veins bleeding prophecy. The ceilings cracked with seams of time undone. And from the infinite heights of the library’s dome, books fell—not dropped, but exhaled, as if the library itself was trying to breathe out its last secrets before it forgot how.Pages screamed.Each one ripped itself from its spine mid-fall, howling the lives they held within—poems erased before they could be confessed, deaths reversed then remembered again, lullabies sung in languages that never had alphabets. Ink flowed upward in convulsions, staining the ceiling like rain returned to the sky, like regrets crawling home.And at the nucleus of this impossible, sacred ruin—two Selenes stood face to face.It

More Chapter
Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on MegaNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
Scan code to read on App