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THE BREAKING OF THE OMEN

Roshni_5623
7
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
> “Some dreams are warnings. Some are memories. And some… are omens waiting to break.” On the ancient, uncharted planet of Exodius, light and darkness have always been locked in a silent war. The world is shaped by prophecy, layered history, and forgotten truths buried beneath myths. In the heart of this world lives Doyel, a young girl haunted by dreams she can’t explain and memories that don’t belong to her. As strange forces stir and shadowy pasts resurface, her family finds themselves pulled into a fate deeper than blood — one tied to a forgotten prophecy and an unspoken betrayal. In distant lands, immortal beings, celestial warriors, and cursed leaders walk the line between power and purpose. And somewhere — between light and ruin — a storm is forming. A storm tied to an ancient omen. As worlds collapse and secrets awaken, Doyel must discover what the dreams mean — and why so many fear what’s coming next. > In this tale of fate, prophecy, and cosmic echoes — one girl holds the thread that might just break the stars.
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Chapter 1 - CHAPTER 1 — The Omen

Everything was silent. The night was dark. Not darker than her. The trees crumbled like wires, twisted and sharp. Above them, black ravens painted the sky like spilled ink.

The Omen was going to be recited. It was black all around-within her too—no other soul could witness what was about to happen.

The lady entered the room with no entrance. She was a Durk, one of the rarest species of Exodius. Immortal.

Like all Durks, her skin bore patches—not ordinary ones, but burned, black patterns, like death itself had stitched its presence across her body. Yet something was different about her. Durks were dwarfish by nature. But she was tall. The only tall Durk in existence till now.

She pulled out a handful of stones from her pocket that shimmered like crushed emeralds, rubies, and lapis lazuli. She kissed them and laid them in the center of a triangle she drew with chalky dust.

Then came the pain, not the kind of others feared. To her pain was nothing .

With her pointed tooth, she scratched a wound into her left arm and drew out a bone—the humerus. She whispered a language older than the stars and let the bone fracture. Its pieces revolved around the triangle.

A sharp light exploded—so bright that even the forest turned into day. And then, the stones disappeared.

---

The moon drowned. The sun swam out of the cloudy waves. There was a chill in the air, a smell of morning sorrow. The wind carried moisture—like the breath of a lover who had wept all night. Flora bloomed faintly; fauna stirred awake.

The birds flew high-that hadn't dared open their wings the night before.

And then there was a room. One with an opening.

Inside, Doyel had just woken. She swiped the curtains and her hazing eyes were shining in the sunlight. She have long blonde hair with hands numb from the nightmares. She rubbed her eyes and was barely seeing anything until she heard a sharp voice from his brother, Aeron. He shouted from the kitchen "Mom is calling you! The early bird cannot be a night owl. Come have the breakfast!"

Aeron was 8 while she was 14. He was a studious child. His hairs were blonde too, inherited from her mother Zusa. He was Not as mature as his elder sister. Unlike her he was living a life which lacked nightmares."I'll be there in five minutes," she shouted back from her room, still rubbing her eyes.

But instead, she walked up to the hill near the river. She needed the water. To cool her face or to see it.

In the glimmering current, her reflection shimmered. She eyes looked tired. Her skin pale.

---

Her mother Zusa was waiting. When Doyel came, her mother said nothing. Her silence carried the weight of years.

Zusa wiped the sweat from Doyel's brow and finally spoke:

"Your eyes are the answer, Enlarge your fierceness. Dreams do never occur. Is there anything else you want to say?"

"No, Mother. May God bless me... like He did on this planet. Exodius."

A strange tension passed between them. Thick. Cold. Known. Zusa turned and headed toward the woods.

Her lips smiled. Her eyebrows didn't.

And then she vanished between the trees.

---

After she left, Doyel sat silently on the edge of her bed. Her fingertips still felt the river. Her eyes still saw the light that had flashed the night before.

Aeron turned to the other side, trying to fall asleep.

Then, without opening his eyes he asked:

"What's death?". She blinked. "Death is when someone walks with God".

"Can we talk to them after they go?" his asked excitedly. "No. We can't talk to them again."

A pause.

"Is our father one of them?" The question froze her. Her throat tightened.

And then—a spark in her brain. A sound. A scent. A memory.

A voice screaming. A vase shattering. A woman collapsing.

---

She remembered. She was five.

"No Peter. Think about our children. Think about yourself. Don't be so loyal..."

"Not everyone is immortal, Zusa. I will not die. I will sacrifice myself for the light."

The memory shifted. Peter raised a vase. It hit Zusa's head like a ship crashing into an iceberg.

She fell.

Smoke poured from Peter's hand. It wrapped around Doyel—through her nose, ears, mouth. Her face went pale. Some of it entered Zusa's soul.

Then, darkness.

---

Doyel gasped. She was back. Aeron was still asleep.

"The betrayal, Or the situation. Leaving us all alone… is what I could see." She whispered to herself.

Maybe it was the smoke. Or the memory. Or the silence that followed.

But one thing was certain.

The Recital was done