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The secrets of menoria

ImadEddine
14
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Menoria is not dying. It is waiting. A world of cracked skies, silent cores, and borders that bleed. The System binds the living. The dead wear false faces. And deep in the wastes, where reality forgets itself, a child walks — no shadow, no name, no reflection. He does not speak. He does not bleed. But where he steps, the land stills. The air listens. And for the first time since the gods fell, something ancient beneath the earth begins to wake.
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Chapter 1 - The Silence After the Storm

In the stillness of a tranquil night, an unexpected storm rolled in, transforming the sky into a dark dome that consumed the stars. A profound silence settled over the land, unsettling the animals and chilling old Harn to his core as he attempted to carve a gift for his grandson. Stepping outside, he discovered the Black Pines, ancient guardians of the forest, had vanished, leaving only smooth earth behind. Awe and terror gripped him; he had witnessed many extraordinary events, but this felt like a fundamental unmaking of reality itself.

Amidst this chaos, Mira, the village midwife, emerged from the birthing hut, bloodied hands clutching a newborn. The child, unlike any she had seen, breathed in a way that seemed almost reverential, lacking the shadow that typically clung to life. The mother, pale and lifeless, bore an unsettling stillness, her eyes empty and gazing into nothingness. Names, Mira understood, held power, and some entities were better left unnamed.

As dawn broke, the world inhaled again, stars returning to the sky and the wind stirring through the air. Yet, the forest did not reappear. In the village square, Harn warned the gathering of an ominous presence, the Submitters - beings that came not for accidents but for endings or beginnings. A Submitte monk, shrouded in mystery, rode past without acknowledging the wasteland where the forest once thrived, casually dropping a small black stone that seemed to belong to the earth.

Inside the cradle, the child opened its eyes, signaling the emergence of a deeper reality-the System appeared not for the villagers, but for the child itself.

'''

[ NAME: ??? ]

[ ZOG LEVEL: ??? ]

[ TYPE: CHAOTIC VOID ]

[ ALIGNMENT: ----- ]

[ HEALTH: ∞ ]

[ PURITY: ERROR ]

[ CONTRIBUTION: 0 ]

[ STATUS: ... ]

'''

Then, a prompt emerged - slow and deliberate, as if the very land hesitated to unveil its secrets.

> **[SPECIAL CLASS UNLOCKED: CHANCELLOR OF CHAOS]**

> *"You do not wield the storm. You are the hand that shapes it."*

> **Reward: Reality Rewrite (Pending)**

> **Failure: Erasure (Confirmed)**

A flicker beneath the interface:

> '// SYSTEM UPGRADE: NEW LAW ADDED - "CHAOS-FORGING"'

> '// SOURCE: CHANCELLOR - AUTHORITY: VOID DRAGON - STATUS: ACTIVE'

An oppressive silence wrapped around the room, thick and palpable, like a heavy fog settling in the air. The child exhaled softly, the gentle sound barely disrupting the stillness, almost as if afraid to shatter the delicate atmosphere that enveloped them.

For an instant, the fire in the hearth appeared to hold its breath, each flicker and crackle stifled, refusing to dance as shadows stretched and deepened in the corners of the room. It was as if time itself had paused, collapsing into an eerie void - not gone, not lifeless - just unmade, like a fleeting thought that slips away before it can take root.

From that very emptiness, a small blue flower emerged, blooming midair, vibrant against the encroaching darkness. Its delicate petals unfurled with a graceful serenity, casting a tranquil aura that wove through the chaos surrounding it.

Yet, as quickly as it appeared, the flower transformed into a shimmering hummingbird of light. Its iridescent wings fluttered defiantly, a brief rebellion against the ordinary, before vanishing into the fabric of existence, leaving only a whisper of magic in the still air.

No one was there to witness this fleeting miracle; the world beyond remained blissfully unaware of the wonder that had just unfolded.

But the black stone lying in the dirt - the one discarded by the Submitte, smoothed by time and neglect - pulsed with life, a deep thrum echoing in the silence.

Then, slowly, it rose, defying gravity, hovering above the soil like a dark star rebelling against the confines of its mundane surroundings.

Deep beneath the village, something stirred. A long-dormant heartbeat reverberated through ancient tunnels, not waking nor calling, but expanding, stretching its limbs across the earth, stirring echoes of times long forgotten.

In that moment, it was as if the Void Dragon smiled, its presence a lush tapestry of chaos and untamed power, preparing to unleash a long-buried force upon the world above, ready to reshape reality itself...