Resonance: The Bleeding Worlds Book Three

By Justus R. Stone

Trillions of existences wiped out in a single moment.

The remaining worlds left battered and bleeding.

At the centre of the disaster stands Gwynn Dormath. He has been called both a hero and a harbinger of the end of all things. A single boy thrust unwittingly into a game of old gods and ancient horrors.

Now, injured both in body and mind, if he hopes to save the ones he loves, he must undertake his most perilous and strange journey.

Between all things lies the Veil. Home of the souls of humanity and the power source for all Anunnaki, it is a place of great power and even greater danger. If Gwynn is to move forward, he must plunge into its murkiest depths and face not only its own guardians, but the darkness within himself.

Meanwhile, the former members of Suture fight to find their own place in these damaged worlds. As alliances are formed and new enemies battled, they inch forward to a conflict only prophecies and myths could predict, or hope to understand.

Resonance is the third novel in The Bleeding Worlds series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Justus R. Stone
• Release date: Dec 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9780987743961

Justus R. Stone

Justus R. Stone is an author and YouTuber. On YouTube, he runs a channel dedicated to Light Novels, which serve as the source material for many of today's popular anime. In his writing, he combines the same elements of action, myth, and mystery which he loves in those same light novels.To keep up with the latest releases and news, join his mailing list at http://justusrstone.com/subscribe-mailing-list/

Book preview

PART ONE

Cataclysm

I

Connecting with someone’s soul was difficult. To lower your defenses, allowing someone to see your faults and fears, could be equal parts violation as joy. In a lifetime, even hundreds of lifetimes, finding one person to share that level of intimacy was rare.

Adrastia had pulled the five remaining members of Ansuz into her soul.

Traversing the Veil was dangerous. Through the years, Anunnaki discovered their soul could be used as a shield to accomplish it. First, it meant facing the enormity of your soul and staying sane. Of the few who braved the experience, fewer succeeded.

Assuming you survived, you faced the task of shaping your personal experience.

Adrastia envisioned the Veil as a long hall, many stories high, lined with an endless number of doors. She’d never bothered to imagine a color for the walls aside from white. It was easier to maintain the illusion without too many details. But the walls weren’t without character—their paint showed scratches and scars. None of these originated within her imagination, it was her mind interpreting the Veil and conforming it to her chosen scenario. Chips in the paint, cracks in the walls, were all symptoms of Cain’s passage and the continual tearing of the Veil by Anunnaki.

Another feature beyond her control was the falling star. It hung in the air, the trail of its fiery descent frozen like a photograph. Always out of reach, this too was a permanent cancer within the Veil. As creatures of linearity, Anunnaki experienced the Veil as it existed the moment they entered. But their actions lived here forever, trillions of layers of events, hidden from each other. Only Cain and one other managed to cross the Veil in a diagonal manner, traversing time in the process. But some events resonated forever, influencing every time and place. The falling star was such an event. Or maybe Adrastia just saw it since it influenced her every time and place.

Keep your eyes shut, she ordered her companions. She supposed they weren’t words, just thoughts directed along the currents of energy within the Veil. Try not to think about this place. Don’t guess what is here, or what you might see.

The walls shimmered, like heat waves rising from the pavement on a summer day.

Shit. Damn, damn, damn.

Thought was energy—synapse firing bursts of electricity along their intricate network. The Veil, an entity of energy, responded to these same electrical impulses. It was how she constructed this area, making it conform to become her reality. But she had introduced five other sets of thoughts. Trying to have them think of nothing, to focus on nothingness, was dangerous. She’d never tried this with more than two other people. Five strong-willed Anunnaki was proving unwieldy.

Adrastia turned her focus on one of the doors.

In her hall, they were all the same—a wood door, painted white—though years of weathering faded the paint to a dullish gray, revealing the wood grain underneath. The door knob—once a lush, shining brass—was dull and rusty after years of use.

She let her memories of that door, and all the love laying behind it, coalesce into waves of energy, pulsing outward, brushing aside the influence of the other members of Ansuz. Her soul was the tiniest fraction of the Veil belonging to her. She wouldn’t let others over-ride it.

A scream, containing every frequency a human being could hear or utter, filled the hall. The echoing thud of a door slamming cut off the noise, plunging the hall into an eery silence.

What the hell was that? Brandt asked.

Shut up, Adrastia snapped.

More screams, more slamming doors.

A distant giggle drew Adrastia’s attention. The source, a little girl with black hair in pony tails, skipped from one side of the hall to the next. She never went through any doors, only appeared to fade in and out of existence from one side to the next.

You’ll never save them, someone said from the opposite direction.

The source was a phantom version of Adrastia. Blood stained its cheeks and the clothes it wore hung in tatters.

You’re too weak to save anyone, it said.

Adrastia clenched her eyes shut.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Marie screamed.

What is it? Brandt yelled at her. Why the hell are you screaming?

It’s Natalie, she gasped. I hear her. She’s here.

Ignore it. Adrastia felt their confidence unravelling. Something is happening in the Veil. They’re just phantoms trying to drive you mad. Nothing they say is real.

But she knows things. Tears filled Marie’s voice. Only things Nat would know. It’s her I tell you.

We have to get out of here.

Adrastia guided them toward a door. Any kind of world might lie beyond its threshold, but it was safer than staying in the Veil.

She didn’t dare loosen her grip on either of the Ansuz members. Instead, she directed her thoughts and desires toward the door,

Open. Let us through into a new world.

Instead of swinging open, the door creaked, bulged in the center, and exploded in a shower of splinters.

Adrastia tried telling herself the door wasn’t real—the explosion only her mind’s interpretation of… what? What was happening?

It didn’t matter. No amount of will could deny the shockwave slamming into her and the other members of Ansuz.

Hold on, she screamed.

They tried. But the force crushing against them was too much. Even Brandt, who gripped her hand so tight Adrastia thought it would shatter, eventually lost his grip.

She swallowed back sick, trying to fight against dizziness just to sit up.

Don’t open your eyes, she yelled, trying to keep her voice calm. No matter what you hear, ignore it.

A sharp stab in her left leg kept her on the ground. A six inch length of wood pierced her inner calf. She tasted blood, biting her lip to keep from yelling as she tore it out.

She searched the space for the others. Despite the impact, her mind reasoned they shouldn’t be too far away. But all sense of scale was lost. Initially, the hallway was immeasurably long, but only a thousand-or-so feet wide. Measurement no longer existed. There was no telling the dimensions of the place now—what seemed within reach skipped several feet away when approached.

Brandt, who’d hung onto her hand the longest, was closest—she hoped. But it was Wade who drew her attention.

The others were barely conscious—she couldn’t be sure they were even alive—but Wade was upright, on his knees, arms outstretched.

His eyes were wide open.

It’s beautiful, he said, tears streaming down his face. I never knew. If you’d only told me sooner, I wouldn’t have been afraid to come.

Wade, Adrastia screamed, "ignore it. Whatever you think is talking to you, it’s just an illusion. Focus on my voice, on me. Look at me Wade, just look at me."

I’m ready, he said, ignoring her pleas. I don’t want to go back.

Wade, no!

Something rose from the floor. It happened so fast, the details were lost to her. She only knew one moment Wade was there, the next, he’d been consumed and the space left empty.

She smacked her fist against the floor. Nearby, Brandt started groaning and moving. Adrastia threw herself toward him, grasping his arm.

It’s me, Brandt, she said. I’ve got you. Just take a moment to get yourself together. But keep your eyes shut.

Where’s everyone else? What’s happening?

I wish I knew.

After giving him a minute, though it was less than he needed, she dragged him to his feet.

Come on. Caelum and Jackson aren’t far.

She pulled Brandt behind her.

Caelum and Jackson being close was a lie. They were far, much further than she wanted. But they were still closer than Marie.

Jackson was curled in a ball, clutching his head. He seemed to be saying something, but she couldn’t hear him from this distance.

Caelum, on his knees, hunched over Jackson, seemed to be trying to talk him down.

She quickened her pace toward them.

They’re all dying, Jackson cried. So many voices, so much pain. A trillion futures lost.

Caelum gripped him by the shoulders. Despite Adrastia’s warnings, his eyes were open. Thankfully, he seemed intent only on Jackson.

Hold it together, Jackson. We don’t know what’s happening. Adrastia said it could all just be an illusion.

No, Jackson moaned, you don’t get it. You can’t hear them. So many worlds destroyed. Futures that had already happened but will never happen again.

You’re talking nonsense.

Adrastia stopped, an icicle stabbing at her heart. Jackson wasn’t talking nonsense—though it was unlikely he even realized himself.

A number of doors exploded, the shockwave rolling over them like the tide breaking on the shore. She and Brandt collided against Caelum and Jackson. They lay huddled together for several minutes, clinging to each other like lifeboats in a raging sea.

Survival should’ve been her first priority—saving the others a close second. But Adrastia couldn’t help but dwell on Jackson’s words.

Futures already happened that will never come again.

If that’s true, why am I even here?

Marie screamed, snapping Adrastia from her thoughts.

The girl was still hundreds of feet away. The image of her faded in and out of view.

Come on, we need to go.

Adrastia pulled the others to their feet and dragged them behind her.

The floor, though she knew there wasn’t really a floor, quaked beneath them. Large fissures snapped open, running the length of the floor to the walls, where they continued upward, splitting the walls, revealing the void beyond.

Marie, hold on, Adrastia yelled.

Like every living thing, Marie’s soul resided within the Veil. The more Adrastia’s control on the situation slid, the harder Marie’s soul would work to claim her. Few Anunnaki escaped the experience unscathed—if they escaped at all.

I need to keep her here. I need to keep her focused on us.

All of you, Adrastia said, callout to Marie. Try to keep her focused on us.

The boys started yelling. She ignored their calls—absorbed in some personal torment playing out in her mind.

Fuck it, Brandt said. Marie, you useless bitch.

They all stopped, their collective mouths falling open.

If you can’t handle this, then just go ahead and die. We don’t need to be slowed down by some whiny baby.

While there were similar abilities shared by all Anunnaki, each had a special talent unique to themselves. In the case of Marie, it was the ability to move at blazing speeds. Even knowing that, it amazed Adrastia how quickly things went from words leaving Brandt’s mouth to Marie slapping him so hard, only Adrastia’s grip on his arm kept him from falling to the ground.

You bastard! You sexist, misogynistic, fucking asshole!

Brandt grabbed Marie around the waist.

I’ve got her. Can we get the hell out of here now?

Let go of me, Marie protested.

Marie, shut up! He’s saving your life, Adrastia snapped.

What about Wade? Caelum asked.

I’m sorry, Adrastia let her tone soften, he’s gone. The Veil took him.

Maybe he would be able to stand facing himself. Maybe he would be one of the lucky few that made it out of the Veil in one piece.

Maybe she was delusional.

No one else spoke. Whether they were mourning their friend or staying quiet to show their lack of care, she couldn’t know. Thankfully, none protested. They’d seen enough to know Adrastia saying he was lost meant no going back for him. Such a thing would only result in more loss.

Getting out was all anyone could do now. The Veil had become more dangerous than ever. But where? The first door she tried nearly killed them. Where would be safe? How could she even know…

Everyone, I know you’re frightened. I know things are going crazy. But please, stay calm while I think for just a few seconds. Then I’ll get us out of here, I promise.

They managed to follow her instructions—their silence almost pointless amid the horrific sounds within the Veil. She tried to tune out the chaos, reaching out to the greater part of herself—her soul, a construct of energy, touching every time and every world all at once. She would never hear what she was searching for without its aid.

The song was nearly as familiar as her own. For centuries, she’d heard an increasingly distorted version. Even when she’d lived long enough to find the pure version again, she couldn’t find it. Not until his school classroom, where the discordant notes clouding him sorted themselves into the melody she’d longed to hear. And then, that night in the park, she’d sung it for him, pure and free of dissonance. He’d embraced it, and those notes now resonated outward to the universe.

In the park, she’d thought she was doing it for him. If he’d failed Fuyuko, he would never forgive himself—she would’ve lost his song forever. But now, she knew she’d done it more for herself. She’d longed for it for so long—Cain’s garbled version was an insult—she had to give it back to Gwynn, just so she could hear his soul sing again.

The song saved Gwynn and Fuyuko. Now, Adrastia hoped it would be enough to save her and the rest of Ansuz.

There was no telling if Gwynn was somewhere safe. After all, Jackson said pre-existing futures had disappeared. But she couldn’t let that deter her. She’d been so intent on getting Gwynn to Asgard, where he’d meet Sophia, where he’d be safe, she’d been blindsided by whatever treachery Woten concocted. If she’d been wrong, if Gwynn being taken to Asgard hadn’t helped him, then her destruction didn’t matter.

A note struck her ear, a hint of melody in a direction she could follow. She shoved the other sounds aside like an adventurer chopping his way through deep brush.

She launched herself toward the door, dragging the others behind her.

There is no floor, she told herself, they can just glide along behind me.

She reached a tentative hand forward. The song was clear now, blasting from the other side of the door. It’s notes sounded strained, hurried, but there was no mistake. She turned the knob, throwing herself and the others across the threshold.

They landed in a heap in a strange room.

We’re out, Adrastia said with a gasp.

What? a voice she wasn’t familiar with said.

She turned to study the scene in front of her.

A sick knot twisted in her gut.

Gwynn lay on the ground, his arm severed. Sophia cradled him in her lap.

The culprit was obvious—Cain—who stood immobilized, facing his father—Pridament—for the first time in millennia. There were others, though she only recognized Jason.

Cain made good on his promise—he sought out Gwynn and tried to kill him. He might have stopped, caught off guard by the presence of his father, but he would resume soon enough. She’d been wrong. Sending Gwynn to Asgard delivered him to his doom.

No. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She forced her wobbling legs to stand straight beneath her. Willing all her strength into them, she propelled herself forward, to cross the distance to Cain before he could notice.

They collided.

There was no lessening in her momentum. She tore the Veil, dragging Cain in with her.

For a brief moment, her gaze met Pridament’s.

Protect Gwynn, she said, disappearing into the hellish chaos with Cain.

II

In the lowest levels of Valhalla, minutes before Adrastia’s arrival, prophesy was being fulfilled.

When Pridament encountered Sophia from Gwynn’s Earth, she said the boy would lead Pridament to the end of his quest. He now held Gwynn in his arms, staring at the answer he’d spent years searching for.

Gwynn, he said.

The grown man’s eyebrow raised quizzically. He looked confused, as though no one had called him that in a very long time. What frightened Pridament was the anger he saw beneath the confusion. Had his son been lost so long he’d come to hate who he’d once been?

Who are you? the man asked.

Pridament’s heart ached. His son didn’t know him. Then he remembered he wasn’t wearing his true face.

Sophia, Pridament said, come support Gwynn.

She ran forward, cradling Gwynn in her arms.

I’m not sure if you’ll remember me, Pridament said, rising to his feet. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll show you my true face. I hope you’ll recognize it.

Muscle and bone became pliable, shifting and sliding into a preprogrammed pattern it recognized, even if Pridament himself had a hard time recalling the specifics. How long since he’d looked in the mirror and seen his true face? But then, for the past ten years, and especially since meeting Gwynn in Brantfield, he’d come to regard Pridament as his true identity. Who he’d been before seemed more a dream with each passing day.

He knew the process finished when he had an overwhelming urge to rub his cheeks. The process always ended with them feeling numb—a numbness his mind said required vigorous rubbing to resume blood flow.

Do you know me Gwynn? Pridament asked. Do you recognize me…

He was going to say son, but the word frightened him. What if this man didn’t know him? Or worse yet, what if he did recognize him and held nothing but hatred for the man who’d failed to rescue him so many years ago?

For a moment, the grown Gwynn studied his face. The look in his eyes gave Pridament some hope. Anunnaki were famous for their memories—probably evolutionary given their long life spans. But Gwynn hadn’t awakened as an Anunnaki before that night. It was possible he’d lost the memories of his youth.

His Gwynn took a step closer, his mouth working, trying to find the right movements to give voice to a long abandoned word.

Pridament felt everyone’s eyes pressing on them. There was no doubting the power of this man in front of them. Even Pridament’s considerable years and power might not be enough to conquer this version of Gwynn. They all remained motionless, holding their breath, waiting to see what gamble Pridament was playing, and if it would pay off.

Da…dad? The elder Gwynn said.

Yes, Gwynn, that’s right. It’s me. I’ve been looking for you.

Warm tears flowed down Pridament’s cheeks.

A commotion came from his right, but Pridament ignored it. He only had eyes for his son. Who knew what trials the boy had faced—and faced alone. What he’d done to Gwynn was inexcusable, but could there be a reason? Maybe something happened, putting him on the wrong path. Perhaps he could be rehabilitated.

Something slammed into his son’s midsection. It took a moment for Pridament to realize it was the girl, Adrastia, who’d proven to be such a mystery in Brantfield.

He felt a tear open. He couldn’t process what was happening, it moved so fast.

Protect Gwynn, Adrastia said.

Then they were gone.

Swallowed by the Veil.

No! Pridament yelled.

He surged forward, all sense abandoned. He would push his way through her tear in the Veil. He would follow them.

His son needed him.

Pridament, Sophia called. Gwynn’s not doing well. Pridament, we need you.

Protect Gwynn.

Yes, there was still another Gwynn who needed him. He shook his head. There was no way he could follow them through the Veil. Even a Script would have a hard time doing such a thing. He’d come this close to his Gwynn, and at least he knew he was alive. Alive, and strong enough to take care of himself. He couldn’t say the same about the Gwynn behind him.

He turned back and ran to aid Sophia.

He’s burning up, she said.

We need to get him out of here, Pridament agreed.

Jason moved between them and Katsuro and his men.

Before all this happened, we were about to have ourselves a fight, Jason said. Are we agreed this isn’t the time or place, or are we going to make this even messier?

Oh, it’ll get fucking messy all right, a familiar voice said from behind Katsuro.

Everything happened so fast, Jason hadn’t even seen the arrival of his teammates. He felt a weight lift seeing their faces. Though not all of them were present.

Oh God, no.

But there was no time to dwell on those things. There would be time for conversation and, if necessary, mourning, later.

Katsuro looked to Jason and then hazarded a brief glance behind him.

That’s right, do the math. Six Anunnaki versus one and two men with guns.

We withdraw, Katsuro said. It seems we have much to discuss.

When Katsuro fully turned so the other members of Ansuz could see him properly, Jason thought they might burst into tears.

Kats? Brandt asked.

He’s this world’s version, Jason yelled over Katsuro’s shoulder. Our’s is still gone.

Seeing how crestfallen they looked, Jason almost regretted shattering their hopes. But this was a new world, and hope had little place.

This was your plan, Jason said to Katsuro, what was the exit strategy? It’s pretty obvious we’re not going out the way we came in.

Katsuro nodded his agreement.

The Aesir use a variety of vehicles. I figured we might…borrow one to make our escape. The plan was to escape during the chaos caused by our assault forces.

Then let’s hope they’ve managed to keep the fight up.

Hold on, Caelum said, moving to Gwynn. Let me see if I can help stabilize Gwynn before we try to move him.

Can you put him flat on the ground? Caelum asked Sophia.

She looked to Pridament who nodded it was fine.

Caelum leaned over Gwynn, drew on the Veil, and placed his hands on Gwynn’s injured arm.

If only I’d gotten here before you cauterized the wound. We might’ve had a chance of reattaching the arm.

There’s nothing to reattach, Sophia stammered. It was lost inside the Bifrost.

Caelum’s look said, What the hell is a Bifrost? But he didn’t bother asking the question aloud. Instead, he focused his attention on Gwynn.

Geez, man, we need to stop doing this dance every time you try to save the world.

A white glow emanated between Caelum’s fingers as he glided them up Gwynn’s injured arm, onto his chest, and then finishing at his temples.

He fell back on his haunches and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

That’s all I can do for now unless you want to carry both of us. There are all sorts of things wrong in there beyond just the arm, but I think I’ve done enough to make it safe to move him.

I’ll take him, Pridament said.

He lifted Gwynn up into his arms. Sophia stayed glued to his side.

Brandt, take a position behind Pridament and cover our rear, Jason ordered. Caelum, you be in front of Pridament, in case Gwynn needs any further patches on the way.

The two boys fell into line without question.

Both Marie and Jackson looked like dolls played with to the point of breaking.

Marie, Jackson, Jason used a softer tone than he had with Brandt and Caelum, what are the two of you feeling capable of?

Marie could barely meet his eyes.

I’m fine just staying here.

Don’t talk that way, Marie, Jason said.