This novel is dark, chaotic, and defies traditional storytelling. It's non-linear and boldly unapologetic, even venturing into potentially religiously sensitive territory. Here is an excerpt to get the idea: A vast, empty basement, silent except for the echo of breath—so resonant that even the faintest sound reverberated through the void. It was a place untouched by light, drowning in eternal darkness. Then came a scream. A piercing, feminine wail ripped through the silence, so loud that its own echo seemed terrified, twisting into something monstrous. The sound startled even the one who had screamed, forcing her to stifle her own cries, suppressing the pain and fear just to avoid hearing the horror of her own voice reflected back at her. She remained silent, but the terror did not subside. It pressed against her, overwhelming her senses until she whimpered—shallow, trembling sniffles. Even those soft sounds bounced back at her, making her heart pound harder. She lay motionless, her pale, cold body stretched across a black marble altar, like a human offering. A gray shroud covered her torso and legs, smeared with scattered bloodstains. A thick black cable was embedded in her scalp, the other end connected to a massive, smooth, jet-black stone with jagged edges, resembling an irregularly cut diamond. Her limbs were not restrained—her hands were free, her feet unbound. Nothing physically held her down. Yet, her mind refused to command her body. She could neither move her lips nor open her eyes. Then, a realization crept in. Her screams—she hadn’t produced them in the way humans normally did. No air had passed through her vocal cords. Even her sniffles hadn’t come from her nose. The revelation sent a new wave of terror through her. Her blood felt frozen, though she knew it was an illusion. There was no blood flowing through her veins. Confusion, uncertainty, and fear gnawed at her. But one thing was undeniable—she had been free before. She had existed outside this body for an immeasurable, unfathomable time. And now, suddenly, she was trapped. Footsteps. Hurried. Approaching fast. Panic surged through her. She longed for the embrace of death once more, an escape from the cruel grip of life—a life that had ended in brutal demise and now dragged her back. The footsteps stopped. Yet, she felt the presence of someone standing beside her. A man. He wore a tattered yellow Roman tunic beneath a gray leather raincoat. His boots were green, and between them and the tunic, his bare knees were exposed. His garments were draped in cobwebs, as though he had been forgotten by time itself. His face was youthful but marked with premature wrinkles and crow’s feet. His short gray hair spoke of age that did not match the rest of him. On his head, like a grotesque crown, sat a creature—a frog-like animal with a single eye. That eye shone like a lamp, casting a stark, white light over her pale body, making her appear almost ethereal, a ghostly figure floating in the abyss. The man’s deep purple eyes studied her with both curiosity and fear. His bony, trembling hand reached out and took hers—a cold, lifeless hand with fingers tinged blue by death. "Patni… are you here?" His voice was distinct—nasal, raspy, fragile. A voice thundered in response, unnatural and booming, startling even its owner. "Nipuna? Is that you?" "Yes." "What happened to me? Wasn’t I… dead?" "You were," he admitted, his voice catching. "But I brought you back. I’m… I’m sorry." "It’s okay, honey," she whispered, forcing a strained chuckle, trying to mask her pain. But the tremor in her voice betrayed her. "You did well. I’ve missed you." "Aren’t you happy?" "I am. I just… I just want to touch you." Her words shattered him. Nipuna sniffled, then reached out, running his frail fingers through her jet-black hair—a contrast so stark against her pale face that it looked like ink spilling into snow. But her body did not react. Only a haunting, disembodied wail filled the air. "I’m sorry," she sobbed. "I can’t fake it. This sorrow… it’s unbearable. I know you’re touching my hair, but I can’t feel the joy of your touch anymore." A pained silence. "I don’t even know if this is real," Nipuna murmured, voice laced with torment. "If I’m actually speaking to you… or just imagining your answers." His anguish cut through her fear, erasing every selfish thought. Love flooded through her. She cast aside her own suffering, desperate to ease his. Though her body remained cold and lifeless, her presence shifted—reaching out, bending the air itself. She wove its particles together, shaping them into a warm, invisible breeze. It caressed Nipuna’s cheek. His breath hitched. Tears fell freely, cascading down his face like a waterfall. Because, in that moment, the air felt like her actual hand. "I’m here, honey," she whispered, gentle, comforting. "You didn’t fail." Nipuna dropped to his knees, sobbing like a child. The grief poured out of him, unchecked, raw. And with every second, the air around him grew warmer, tighter—wrapping him in the embrace of the woman he thought he had lost forever. "You didn’t fail," she whispered again. "I’m here with you. Forever." Nipuna’s sobs turned into laughter—wild, erratic, broken. A hysterical, unsettling sound. Ha. Pause. Ha. Pause. Ha. The basement walls carried the echoes, twisting them into something eerie, something unnatural. A sound that would terrify anyone—except for Patni. She knew this laughter well. It was the sound of his joy. "I’m happy for your success, honey," she murmured. "Now… enthrall me with the science behind this." Nipuna sniffled, wiping at his wet cheeks. "In the moments after death, the brain surges with remarkable activity—it’s like a preparation, a bridge between the physical world and the ethereal. I saw it as a doorway… and I just needed to keep it open." He gestured to the black stone. "This device—the Afocarus Stone—did that." "But how did you build this? And how did you bring me here so quickly?" "I had Shanika isolate you from the flow of time," he admitted. "That gave me the chance to retrieve you before it was too late. And this stone… this stone has existed since the moment I fell in love with you." Her soul trembled. "What… are you saying?" "I always knew you were going to die. Olympia just… sped things up. But I was prepared." "Why didn’t you tell me?" "I didn’t want to talk about death with you." A pause. "Actually," she murmured, "it wasn’t so bad. In fact… it was beautiful." Nipuna frowned. "Beautiful?" "The first thing I saw after I left my body was… color. These luminous, two-dimensional circles, floating in the dark. They radiated such joy, such… purity. I thought they were gateways—to heavens, maybe. But I was wrong. "They began to expand, all at once, and then—lightning. It connected them all together. I thought something would happen to me… but I was just an observer. I simply watched them." Nipuna tilted his head. "The lightning—was it loud?" "Not a single sound," she whispered. "I’ve never known such silence." "Were you afraid?" "There was a moment…" Her voice wavered. "A moment when I was yanked away from the circles—sucked into darkness. It was so fast… faster than light. I reached out, hoping the light would catch me, would save me. "But it couldn’t." A shiver ran down her soul.
Here is an excerpt to get the idea:
A vast, empty basement, silent except for the echo of breath—so resonant that even the faintest sound reverberated through the void. It was a place untouched by light, drowning in eternal darkness.
Then came a scream.
A piercing, feminine wail ripped through the silence, so loud that its own echo seemed terrified, twisting into something monstrous. The sound startled even the one who had screamed, forcing her to stifle her own cries, suppressing the pain and fear just to avoid hearing the horror of her own voice reflected back at her.
She remained silent, but the terror did not subside. It pressed against her, overwhelming her senses until she whimpered—shallow, trembling sniffles. Even those soft sounds bounced back at her, making her heart pound harder.
She lay motionless, her pale, cold body stretched across a black marble altar, like a human offering. A gray shroud covered her torso and legs, smeared with scattered bloodstains. A thick black cable was embedded in her scalp, the other end connected to a massive, smooth, jet-black stone with jagged edges, resembling an irregularly cut diamond.
Her limbs were not restrained—her hands were free, her feet unbound. Nothing physically held her down. Yet, her mind refused to command her body. She could neither move her lips nor open her eyes.
Then, a realization crept in.
Her screams—she hadn’t produced them in the way humans normally did. No air had passed through her vocal cords. Even her sniffles hadn’t come from her nose. The revelation sent a new wave of terror through her. Her blood felt frozen, though she knew it was an illusion. There was no blood flowing through her veins.
Confusion, uncertainty, and fear gnawed at her.
But one thing was undeniable—she had been free before. She had existed outside this body for an immeasurable, unfathomable time. And now, suddenly, she was trapped.
Footsteps.
Hurried. Approaching fast.
Panic surged through her. She longed for the embrace of death once more, an escape from the cruel grip of life—a life that had ended in brutal demise and now dragged her back.
The footsteps stopped.
Yet, she felt the presence of someone standing beside her.
A man.
He wore a tattered yellow Roman tunic beneath a gray leather raincoat. His boots were green, and between them and the tunic, his bare knees were exposed. His garments were draped in cobwebs, as though he had been forgotten by time itself.
His face was youthful but marked with premature wrinkles and crow’s feet. His short gray hair spoke of age that did not match the rest of him. On his head, like a grotesque crown, sat a creature—a frog-like animal with a single eye.
That eye shone like a lamp, casting a stark, white light over her pale body, making her appear almost ethereal, a ghostly figure floating in the abyss.
The man’s deep purple eyes studied her with both curiosity and fear.
His bony, trembling hand reached out and took hers—a cold, lifeless hand with fingers tinged blue by death.
"Patni… are you here?" His voice was distinct—nasal, raspy, fragile.
A voice thundered in response, unnatural and booming, startling even its owner.
"Nipuna? Is that you?"
"Yes."
"What happened to me? Wasn’t I… dead?"
"You were," he admitted, his voice catching. "But I brought you back. I’m… I’m sorry."
"It’s okay, honey," she whispered, forcing a strained chuckle, trying to mask her pain. But the tremor in her voice betrayed her. "You did well. I’ve missed you."
"Aren’t you happy?"
"I am. I just… I just want to touch you."
Her words shattered him. Nipuna sniffled, then reached out, running his frail fingers through her jet-black hair—a contrast so stark against her pale face that it looked like ink spilling into snow.
But her body did not react.
Only a haunting, disembodied wail filled the air.
"I’m sorry," she sobbed. "I can’t fake it. This sorrow… it’s unbearable. I know you’re touching my hair, but I can’t feel the joy of your touch anymore."
A pained silence.
"I don’t even know if this is real," Nipuna murmured, voice laced with torment. "If I’m actually speaking to you… or just imagining your answers."
His anguish cut through her fear, erasing every selfish thought. Love flooded through her. She cast aside her own suffering, desperate to ease his.
Though her body remained cold and lifeless, her presence shifted—reaching out, bending the air itself. She wove its particles together, shaping them into a warm, invisible breeze. It caressed Nipuna’s cheek.
His breath hitched.
Tears fell freely, cascading down his face like a waterfall. Because, in that moment, the air felt like her actual hand.
"I’m here, honey," she whispered, gentle, comforting. "You didn’t fail."
Nipuna dropped to his knees, sobbing like a child. The grief poured out of him, unchecked, raw.
And with every second, the air around him grew warmer, tighter—wrapping him in the embrace of the woman he thought he had lost forever.
"You didn’t fail," she whispered again. "I’m here with you. Forever."
Nipuna’s sobs turned into laughter—wild, erratic, broken. A hysterical, unsettling sound.
Ha. Pause. Ha. Pause. Ha.
The basement walls carried the echoes, twisting them into something eerie, something unnatural. A sound that would terrify anyone—except for Patni.
She knew this laughter well. It was the sound of his joy.
"I’m happy for your success, honey," she murmured. "Now… enthrall me with the science behind this."
Nipuna sniffled, wiping at his wet cheeks. "In the moments after death, the brain surges with remarkable activity—it’s like a preparation, a bridge between the physical world and the ethereal. I saw it as a doorway… and I just needed to keep it open." He gestured to the black stone. "This device—the Afocarus Stone—did that."
"But how did you build this? And how did you bring me here so quickly?"
"I had Shanika isolate you from the flow of time," he admitted. "That gave me the chance to retrieve you before it was too late. And this stone… this stone has existed since the moment I fell in love with you."
Her soul trembled. "What… are you saying?"
"I always knew you were going to die. Olympia just… sped things up. But I was prepared."
"Why didn’t you tell me?"
"I didn’t want to talk about death with you."
A pause.
"Actually," she murmured, "it wasn’t so bad. In fact… it was beautiful."
Nipuna frowned. "Beautiful?"
"The first thing I saw after I left my body was… color. These luminous, two-dimensional circles, floating in the dark. They radiated such joy, such… purity. I thought they were gateways—to heavens, maybe. But I was wrong.
"They began to expand, all at once, and then—lightning. It connected them all together. I thought something would happen to me… but I was just an observer. I simply watched them."
Nipuna tilted his head. "The lightning—was it loud?"
"Not a single sound," she whispered. "I’ve never known such silence."
"Were you afraid?"
"There was a moment…" Her voice wavered. "A moment when I was yanked away from the circles—sucked into darkness. It was so fast… faster than light. I reached out, hoping the light would catch me, would save me.
"But it couldn’t."
A shiver ran down her soul.