WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Twelve: The Eternal Cycle
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CONTENT WARNING: This series contains explicit sexual violence, human sacrifice, psychological torture, murder of innocent characters (including children and family members), ritualistic killing, and extreme horror. No character is safe. Read at your own risk.
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Chapter Two Hundred Ninety: The Primordial Titan
Year 299 – Two Hundred Eighty-Eight Years After the Curse
The titan in the south had slept for two hundred eighty-eight years.
Not literally—he was only seventy-five. But he had slept as if he had been hibernating for millennia. Every day. Every night. Every dream of every kind.
He believed he could challenge the queen.
He believed he could win.
He believed he could kill her.
His name was Kronos—another echo, another coincidence. He was ancient now, his skin cracked, his power dimmed, his eyes still burning.
He had seen many things in his long life.
He had consumed many worlds.
He had failed many times.
But he had never faced anything like the queen.
The queen was different.
The queen was darkness.
The queen was eternity.
But Kronos had found something.
A core.
An ancient core, torn from the heart of a dead star, imbued with the power to grant godhood, to reshape reality, to destroy any enemy.
He had hidden it for millennia.
He had protected it for millennia.
He was ready.
This is it, he thought.
This is the answer.
This is how I destroy her.
He did not see the shadows gathering.
He did not hear the whispers growing louder.
He did not feel the darkness closing in.
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The Southern Depths – Morning
Kronos rose from the depths, as he always did.
The earth shook. The sky darkened. The air was heavy.
Life is hard, he thought.
Life is cruel.
Life is short.
But I am not short.
I am primordial.
I am eternal.
Or I was.
Until I slept.
Until I failed.
He did not see the shadows.
He did not hear the whispers.
He did not feel the darkness watching.
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The Ruins – Morning
Liora sat on the throne, listening to the whispers.
Three million and fifty-four souls now served her. They flitted through the shadows, invisible to all but her, reporting on everything they saw and heard.
They told her about the titan.
He is primordial, they said. He is powerful. He is dangerous.
He has a core. An ancient core. Torn from the heart of a dead star.
It can grant godhood.
Reshape reality.
Destroy any enemy.
He believes he can destroy you.
He believes he can win.
He believes he can kill you.
Liora's smile widened.
A titan, she thought.
Primordial. Powerful. Dangerous.
A core that can grant godhood.
Reshape reality.
Destroy any enemy.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
But I am not an enemy.
I am not a reality.
I am eternal.
And no core—
No titan—
No godhood—
Can destroy eternity.
She stood up.
She walked down the steps.
The shadows followed.
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The Southern Depths – Night
Kronos prepared for his journey.
He held the core.
It glowed in his hand.
It was cold.
It was alive.
It was hungry.
Tomorrow, he thought.
Tomorrow I go to the ruins.
Tomorrow I face the queen.
Tomorrow I destroy her.
He did not see the shadows gathering.
He did not hear the whispers growing louder.
He did not feel the darkness closing in.
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The Depths
Liora appeared in the shadows.
White dress. Black eyes. Pale skin.
"You're here," she said.
Kronos looked up.
"Who—"
"I am the queen."
"The queen?"
"Yes."
"Please—"
"Shh."
Kronos raised the core.
Liora moved.
Faster than he could follow. Faster than he could react.
Her hand closed around his wrist.
"You won't need that."
"Let go of me."
"No."
Kronos tried to pull away.
He could not.
Liora's grip was like iron.
"What are you?"
"I am what comes next."
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The Feeding – Kronos
Liora reached into the titan's mind.
He tried to resist.
He was primordial. Powerful. Dangerous.
But she was stronger.
She pushed past his defenses.
She found his memories.
...the core...
...the godhood...
...the hope ...
...that he could be the one...
...that he could stop her...
...that he could destroy her...
She pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The core.
The godhood.
The soul.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
He gasped.
His body convulsed.
His eyes rolled back.
She pulled again.
He went limp.
She withdrew from his mind.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
The titan was no more.
Just a shell.
Another victim.
Another name for the list.
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The Core
Liora picked up the core.
It glowed in her hand.
It was cold.
It was alive.
It was hungry.
Interesting, she thought.
Very interesting.
She raised the core.
She looked at its reflection in her eyes.
Her eyes were black.
Her skin was pale.
Her smile was wide.
This core could grant godhood, she thought.
It could reshape reality.
It could destroy any enemy.
But I have no need for godhood.
I have no need for reality.
I have no need for enemies.
I am the godhood.
I am the reality.
I am the enemy.
She crushed the core in her hand.
The glow faded.
The cold died.
The hunger ended.
No one will ever use it now, she thought.
No one will ever try again.
I am safe.
I am eternal.
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The Three Million Fifty-Fifth Sacrifice
She performed the ritual in the depths, surrounded by shadows and silence.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness roared.
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The Power – Three Million Fifty-Five
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Three million and fifty-five sacrifices. Three million and fifty-five souls. Three million and fifty-five streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
Three million fifty-five, she thought.
The hunger is quieter now.
But it will return.
It always returns.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A titan. Primordial. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
Not even the primordial.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned Kronos's body in a pyre of starfire.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes before dawn.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
She walked back to the ruins as the sun rose, smelling of smoke and blood and darkness.
She washed her face in a broken fountain.
She braided her hair with her fingers.
She wore a white dress she had found in a forgotten wardrobe.
She practiced her smile.
Eyes wide. Innocence.
Mouth soft. Gentleness.
Head tilted. Curiosity.
Perfect, she thought.
She sat on the throne.
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The Empty Throne
The throne room was open to the sky.
No walls. No roof. No protection.
Just Liora.
And the whispers.
You are alone, they said.
Yes, she thought.
But I am not lonely.
I have you.
I have all of you.
Forever.
She closed her eyes.
She listened to the whispers.
They told her about the world.
The new kings. The new heroes. The new legends.
They told her about a young woman in the west. A voidling. Nothingness. She had been born from the emptiness between stars, a creature of pure absence, of pure hunger, of pure nothing.
She believed she could challenge the queen.
She believed she could win.
She believed she could kill her.
Liora smiled.
Let her come, she thought.
Let her hunger.
Let her believe.
I have time.
I have forever.
And when she comes—
I will feed.
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End of Chapter Two Hundred Ninety
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END OF BOOK TWELVE: THE ETERNAL CYCLE