Light Gate の小説・ストーリー

They passed through the archway into darkness. And then into light. The Gate was not a door. It was a wound in the world. A towering structure of stone, bone, and something not quite material—like light woven through shadow. Chains of silver wrapped it, pulsing with runes none of them could translate. In its center was a crack, thin but deep, and from it bled power. Not evil. Not good. Just raw, waiting force. Lyessa waited beside the Gate, her eyes blank white. “The seal is weakening,” she said, voice distant. “The Nine Stars were not enough.”

As Lucas neared the core of the drowned vault that held the black flame, Aria kept popping in his mind. He wondered if she missed him terribly, just as he misses her. He couldn't wait to get a hold of the black flame, and put an end to Behemoth's reign of terror, but as he neared, a gate that was made of living bones, and rusted chains blocked his path. Lucas paused for a while, staring at the obstacle. He couldn't tell if it was another dirty tricks of Leviathan. He touched the gate, and it opened, revealing a circular chamber that was surrounded by mirror water, which was strangely still.

There was a short fence bordering it and its gate was made out of steel, appearing and disappearing each second. One of the protectors stood at the gate as a hole emerged on its middle part. There was a clicking sound as a yellow light scanned through him, followed by a pop, until the fence moved away, bringing the gate with it. A twisting lane then greeted them, punctuated by a rectangular sphere that moved forward when detecting presence. “Wicked,” said George under his breath, his eyes set at the sparks uniting in a nearby post, leaving the infrastructure unguarded. The sphere stopped moving when they were barricaded by yet another door. From where he was, it looked transparent, reflectin

I said, my voice steady and clear. As if responding to my words, a low hum resonated from the towering structures erected near the Northern gate. A shimmering light began to coalesce at their zenith, growing brighter with each passing moment. The soldiers, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief, watched as the light transformed into a series of focused beams, aimed directly at the advancing horde.

"What… what was that? Why would it do that?" Levy’s gaze never left mine. He slowly walked over to the fallen lantern, which had now dimmed to a soft, pulsating glow. He bent down, and with a casual, almost reverent motion, placed his hand on the body of the lantern, not the lid. Instantly, the light softened, steadying into a gentle, golden radiance. He picked it up effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing. "This lantern, Darren," he said, his voice calm, almost educational, as he held the now placid, glowing artifact. "It recognizes its true wielder. It responds to them, and only them. It can be… quite volatile if someone attempts to activate it improperly."

Then another tree moved. Then another. The forest itself was opening. A hidden path appeared where none had existed before. At the end of the path stood a massive stone gate nearly forty feet high. Its surface was covered with frost. At its center was an empty keyhole shaped exactly like Adrian's brass key. Above the gate, ancient letters slowly glowed with blue light. Adrian read them aloud. "Only the one who carries the First Light may enter." Before anyone could move... A child laughed. Soft.

Lucas stood with his head lowered, as if he couldn't even bring himself to meet my eyes. Slowly, he took a small box from inside his coat and held it out toward me. His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. "Wilma, I want to return this to you." I opened the box and saw the familiar star-shaped pendant. It was the same one I had broken and tossed aside in the car. It had been fully repaired. The delicate star glinted faintly under the light.

In the center stood the Gate. It wasn't a gate in the traditional sense. It was a ring of floating, geometric monoliths, each one carved from a material that looked like frozen starlight. They drifted in a slow, clockwise rotation around a central pool of liquid mercury that mirrored the sky above, even through the thick canopy of the cleft. "The Aura Gate," I whispered. "It’s beautiful," Maya said, stepping forward. Her empathic sense was flaring so brightly that her eyes had turned almost entirely silver. "It’s singing, Mama. It sounds like the Moon, but... older."

His eyes begin to glow gold as he forms a luminescent yellow sphere with each hand and sends them floating toward the Anomaly. We all watch carefully as the glowing orbs approach the portal. When they touch the blackness, they simply disappear. They don’t flash, or fade out, or make any sound—they’re just gone, as if they never existed. “So much for that,” Rerun says. “It doesn’t look like we’re going to be able to light up the inside of that thing.” “Just a second,” Lights says. “Let me try my eyebeam. It’s way more concentrated than the light balls.”

The air rippled like heat haze, and a faint outline took shape between the trees, a glowing ring etched into the ground, symbols rotating around it like orbiting moons. “What the hell is that?” Lira whispered. Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “Looks like a gate.” Nora took a step closer, the shard buzzing in her palm. “It’s not active.” “Then let’s keep it that way,” Grayson said, grabbing her arm. But the shard pulsed again and the symbols lit up. A blast of energy erupted from the circle, throwing them backward. Nora hit the ground hard, vision spinning, as a figure stepped out of the light.