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Chapter 180: The House Of Light
The journey east began beneath a pale sun struggling to pierce the veil of mist.The land before them was vast—rolling hills half-shrouded in dew, forests stretching like silent sentinels, and rivers glimmering faintly like threads of liquid glass.Neither Michael nor Clara spoke for a long while. Words felt fragile, unworthy of the weight of what they carried.Every step away from the ruins felt like leaving something sacred behind, yet also like stepping closer to a truth that refused to stay buried.The air was heavy with memory.Each gust of wind seemed to whisper fragments of voices, names half-remembered, promises half-kept.“Do you think the House still exists?” Clara finally asked, breaking the quiet.Michael adjusted the strap of his satchel, where Jonathan’s letter was safely tucked. “If it ever stopped existing, the Order wouldn’t still be looking for it.”She nodded slowly, her eyes scanning the horizon. “The House of Light... It was supposed to be a sanctuary, wasn’t it?
Chapter 179: The Dawn Of Remembrance
The dawn came quietly, as if reluctant to touch what the night had scarred.Soft strands of light slid over the horizon, brushing against the ruins where the last of the fires had died hours before. The wind was gentle, almost reverent, carrying the faint scent of rain and stone dust.Michael awoke to the distant call of a bird, its cry echoing across the hollow valley. His body ached from exhaustion, his mind heavier still from the things he could not yet explain. For a long moment, he simply sat there, listening—to the silence, to the whispering wind, to his own heartbeat reminding him he was still here.Clara was already awake, sitting at the base of the broken archway that once framed the portal. The remnants of the sigil still shimmered faintly, etched into the stone like veins of dying fire. She didn’t turn when Michael approached. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon where the light was fighting through the mist, as though it held the answers she longed for.“You didn’t sleep,” h
Reader’s Reflection
As the veil closes and dawn waits on the horizon, Michael and Clara stand at the edge of two worlds—one bound by memory, the other by love.If you were given the same choice…Would you hold on to love, knowing it could cost you your place in the world—or forget everything, just to keep the peace that once was?
Chapter 178: The World Beyond The Veil
When Michael opened his eyes, the world was no longer the same.A white haze pressed around him—soft, weightless, infinite. For a moment, he thought he was floating. The ground beneath him shimmered like liquid glass, reflecting fragments of light that shifted with every breath. He turned his head slowly, half expecting to see the familiar wooden beams of their cabin ceiling. Instead, he saw nothing but sky—endless, silver-gray, streaked with faint lines of gold that moved like veins of light.“Clara?” His voice cracked against the emptiness.He sat up sharply, disoriented. The air hummed faintly, like a thousand whispered thoughts overlapping. He spotted her a few feet away, lying still on the glass-like ground, her hair spread like ink over the shimmering surface. He stumbled toward her, his steps echoing faintly as if he were walking inside a dream.When he reached her, he knelt beside her and touched her shoulder. “Clara—wake up. Please.”She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, daz
Chapter 177: The First Gate
The road stretched endlessly ahead — a long, winding scar cutting through the wilderness. Mist drifted low across the asphalt, curling around the tires of the van as it hummed quietly through the dawn. Neither Michael nor Clara had spoken for the past hour. The silence between them wasn’t heavy with resentment, but with the shared understanding that every word could shift what little peace they still had.The world outside felt muted, like it was holding its breath. Forests blurred past on either side — ancient trees standing like silent witnesses to what was coming. Somewhere between the static on the radio and the rumble of the tires, Clara finally broke the silence.“Do you remember it?” she asked, eyes fixed on the passing horizon.“The gate?”Michael didn’t answer immediately. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, the memory surfacing like a shadow from deep water. “I remember more than I wish I did,” he said finally. “The valley. The ruins. The night it all started.”Cla
Chapter 176: Beneath The Silent Dawn
The first light of morning crept timidly through the cracks of the curtains, spilling faint streaks of gold across the wooden floor. The old house was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock and the restless rustle of leaves outside. Michael hadn’t slept. He sat in the same chair where he had been since midnight, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the letter lying on the table like a sleeping serpent.Every word of the night replayed in his mind: the knock at the door, the stranger’s cold voice, the sudden flash of light, and the single black feather left behind. Even now, he could still feel the faint warmth of that insignia’s glow in his palms — a light that seemed to come from nowhere yet burned with meaning.Across the room, Clara sat by the window, knees drawn to her chest. The faint glow of dawn painted her face in soft gold, but her expression was distant, almost fragile. She hadn’t said much since her shocking revelation, and Michael didn’t dare to push. Silence had b
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