Chapter 60
Chapter 60 – Prophecybreaker
"When the stars lie, light the sky with your own fire."
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Selene didn't dream that night.
She commanded the dreams of others.
In every corner of the realm—palaces, catacombs, covens, and tombs—those who had once scorned her name now woke in cold sweat, clutching at their chests, hearts echoing with her vow:
> "The future is mine to write."
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At the Temple of Sight, the Oracle's hands trembled over the Thread of Destiny.
The once-unbreakable line spun gold and red—tangled now, burning at the edges, fraying where Selene's choices had sliced clean through the ordained. For centuries, prophecy had ruled unchallenged. But now it feared the will of one who refused to be chosen and instead chose herself.
"The Prophecybreaker," the Oracle whispered, eyes glowing. "The child who should've died. The queen who wasn't meant to rise."
The threads snapped in her hands.
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Back in the Bone Orchard, Valerian stood in the field of ghosts, watching the horizon crack with light. Not the sunrise.
A flare.
Magic fire.
An army was coming.
But Selene wasn't afraid.
She was already dressed.
Wrapped in shadows that obeyed her command, hair braided with silver thorns, armor stitched with ancient vows, she walked to Valerian and placed her hand on his chest—right above his once-dead heart.
"This will be the war they remember," she said.
"And the one they regret starting," he murmured, tilting his head down to kiss her temple. "Do you feel them? The other kings gathering?"
She nodded. "They bring armies."
"And gods."
"And fear," she added, a slow, dangerous smile tugging at her lips. "That last one will be their undoing."
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Meanwhile, in the Forsaken Vale…
Three blood kings met in secret—shrouded by deception and darkened wards.
One was blind.
One was faceless.
The last had no soul.
But even they—terrible, ancient, prideful—shivered when they heard the whisper echo from the wind:
> "She's not a queen.
She's the fire that will crown the grave."
They all turned to the mirror made of bone.
Selene stood on the other side.
Smiling.
Watching.
And then… she shattered the mirror with a single word.
"Run."
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In the sky above the Orchard, stormclouds formed in the shape of wings. Nova stood beneath them, her power weaving through constellations like ink in water.
She turned to Bea.
"She's doing it, isn't she?" Nova said.
Bea nodded. "She's breaking everything they tried to make her believe was fate."
They both looked toward the horizon where the enemy marched.
"You ready?" Bea asked.
Nova grinned. "Always."
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And in the very heart of the Bone Orchard, where the world first bled—
Selene climbed the stone spire.
She looked down at the sea of those who had gathered—misfits, exiles, rebels, monsters, kings who had cast off crowns, queens who had stolen them back. No longer waiting for fate.
They had chosen their side.
And their side had chosen her.
Her voice rang out like prophecy denied:
> "Let the stars lie.
Let the gods tremble.
I was never yours to write."
She raised her hand.
And lightning fell like a blade.
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End of Chapter 60 – Next: Chapter 61, "The War of Red Echoes"