Steins Gate Quotes Novels & Stories

I've just finished collecting rent from a building when Mom calls me on the phone. She tells me that the Jensens' estranged real heiress, Sienna Jensen, has finally reunited with them. I pack up my account ledgers immediately before heading over to attend Sienna's welcome home party. But as soon as I reach the gate, my car is stopped right outside. Apparently, I'm not allowed entry into the Jensen residence. Hatred crosses Sienna's eyes when she spots my car. "You're nothing but a thieving impostor! How dare you make a flashy appearance while driving a car that belongs to my family!" I take a deep breath and explain coolly, "This is my car. I don't know what you're talking about." The next thing I know, Sienna grabs a ledger and hurls it at my face. She screams at me, "You used my family's money to buy this car, and yet you have the gall to claim that it's yours? "I'm my mother's actual child, and yet you've leeched all the good things from my family, you filthy bitch! I'll have you know that the hardships that Mom went through for nine months of pregnancy will be converted into a maternity fee of a million dollars! Now hurry up and transfer the payment to Mom's bank account!" I merely sneer at Sienna before pulling out my phone and calling her mother, Molly Dawson, "Your daughter demands that I give you a million dollars' worth of maternity fees. Do you even have the guts to accept the payment?"

I was a princess ennobled by my father, the late king. Marrying the general of the northern frontier, Griffin Quenell was already a great show of royal favor. On my wedding day, just as my royal carriage arrived at the Quenell family’s courtyard, a woman dressed in grey wool knelt before the castle gate. She held a swaddled infant in her arms. Griffin, as the groom of the day, dressed in his wedding tunic, blocked my path with a troubled expression. “Your Grace, Joan is someone I met in the borderlands. She bore me a son and now has no place to go. Please let her move in with me on this special occasion. You’ll be my first wife, and she’ll be my second wife. It’s all for the sake of the Quenell bloodline.” The guests at the gate erupted into commotion. His grandmother, Wilma Quenell, spoke firmly. “Your Grace, you were born into royalty. You certainly do not lack a title. However, Griffin is the only son the Quenell family has had in three generations. This child bears the Quenell name. We surely can’t make him an illegitimate child.” The border soldiers knelt and said in unison, “Your Grace, have mercy!” I looked down at the child in the swaddle, then at Griffin’s pleading gaze. I smiled, removed my coronet from my head, and placed it on the wedding table. Then, I turned and boarded my carriage. “General Quenell, I will not stop you from wanting an heir, but my late father’s decree said I am to be married, not given away as a gift. If your family cannot abide by his words, then I shall take the decree back with me.”

Willow Grant has spent nearly a decade in Manhattan, building a life of logic, skyscrapers, and safety. She traded the wild air of Redwood Bay for the steady pulse of the city and found a man who offers her a quiet, uncomplicated love. She’s no longer the girl who wept on a cold floor; she is older, watchful, and finally in control. But when a family engagement demands her return to the territory, she discovers that some ghosts don't stay buried—they grow teeth. Seven years ago, he let her run. Now, he’s done waiting. Roman Vale is no longer the boy she once idolized. He is the Alpha of the Vale Clan, a lethal tactician who rules the northern territories with a heart of flint and a gaze of stormy gray. He has spent years in the shadows, expanding his empire and purging anyone who dared touch what belonged to him. He has stayed silent. He has stayed celibate. But he has never let go. From the moment Willow steps back onto his soil, the hunt is on. Roman doesn't want a civil conversation or a polite reunion. He wants the woman who was promised to him in the moonlight. He wants to tear down the walls she built in the city and remind her that no matter whose hand she holds, her wolf only howls for one man. As a dangerous conspiracy threatens the Grant lineage, Willow is forced into Roman’s orbit for protection. But in the corridors of the Vale Compound, the greatest threat isn't the enemies at the gate—it’s the suffocating, magnetic heat of the man who calls her Rosebud while looking at her like prey. The rose has finally bloomed. And this time, the Alpha is playing for keeps.

Shantali Jackson awakens from cryostasis to discover she's been asleep for over 600 years. A working-class woman from the pre-collapse era, she finds herself in a sterile medical facility, where staff address her as royalty and claim she's the beloved of Prince Costa—a man she barely remembers meeting at Le Glow Club one fateful night. As fragmented memories surface, Shantali learns the devastating truth: she and Costa were never willing participants in the preservation program. After publicly defying their arranged marriages to choose each other, they were declared enemies of the state and forcibly preserved by the Emergency Preservation Committee. They've been awakened seventeen times for six centuries, only to have their memories wiped when they refused to comply with the Council's genetic breeding program. This time is different—the memory suppression technology is failing, and ghostly echowisps (manifestations of psychic trauma) guide them through their escape. With the help of Marcus, a resistance member, they flee to the underground networks where Shantali discovers shocking truths: her half-brother Elliot became a resistance leader, Costa's parents have been working to undermine the Council for centuries, and the outside world has been habitable for generations. The couple escapes to Haven's Gate, one of seven thriving Eastern Sanctuaries where humanity has rebuilt naturally. But freedom is short-lived when they learn Dr. Thorne and other preservation specialists are using extracted consciousness data to create a new form of control—artificial minds programmed for obedience. Refusing to remain passive victims, Shantali and Costa make a bold choice: they'll pose as desperate refugees seeking re-preservation, walking willingly into Dr. Thorne's trap to stop his plans once and for all. Their love story becomes humanity's last hope against a system that would sacrifice free will for genetic perfection. A tale of choice, resistance, and the power of love.

Living with my aunt and her family was meant to be a temporary, quiet arrangement just helping out and keeping to myself. On the first day of the new year, while everyone else was out celebrating, I stayed home, enjoying the rare silence and catching up on sleep. But when we ran out of water, I reluctantly stepped outside to fetch some, and that’s when I saw him. He stood by the gate of the house next door, effortlessly commanding attention with just a glance. A smirk played on his lips, and a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes behind his blue-ray glasses. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, I felt disheveled and barely awake, my hair was a mess and still shaking off sleep. But he didn’t seem to mind. There was something about him an air of mystery that made me wonder who he was and why he was there. Before I could look away, he spoke, “Hi.” Caught off guard, I managed a quick, “Hi,” while trying to pull myself together. “Can I know your name?” he asked. I hesitated but replied, “I’m Clara,” and kept walking. “Can I have your number?” he called after me. “Just as friends.” I almost refused but reluctantly agreed, entering my number into his phone. “There,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll call you,” he promised with a smile, as I turned to leave. What began as a chance encounter soon became an inexplicable connection. He had secrets, but there was something about him that saw through me, understanding things no one else did. The man I met next door wasn’t just a fleeting stranger,he became the reason I started questioning everything I thought I wanted.

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

I had just given birth when the country sent me on a secret mission that kept me undercover for seven years. When it finally ended, I came home on leave. I was eager to see my husband and children, whom I had missed every single day. However, the moment my car stopped at the gate, I saw my two children—my most precious treasures—being shoved down the steps by a woman. They tumbled hard, and they were covered in bruises. The next second, three snarling wolfhounds were released from the house, and they pounced on the children with bared teeth. Fury surged through me, and I charged forward. I got the dogs away with a few swift kicks and punches. Amid the animals’ pitiful howls, my ten-year-old son instinctively shielded his sister. His young face was pale with fear. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old daughter snapped out of her daze and trembled as she urged me to leave. “Miss, run! You hurt her dogs, and if Dad finds out, he won’t let you get away with it!” I forced down my anger and gently said, “She set the dogs on you first. Even if your dad were here, he’d protect you just like I did.” I did not expect this to make their eyes instantly fill with tears. Alarmed, I was about to ask what was wrong when a woman’s arrogant voice rang out. “You vagrant! I have a close relationship with Martin Gray, and I’m also the lady of the Gray family! “You and these two brats who dirtied my house aren’t leaving in one piece today!” I froze for a second before I took a deep breath and called my husband. “Martin, who’s this woman proclaiming to be the lady of the Gray family? Where did she come from? You’d better have a good explanation for this. And tell me, when did the house I left for John and Katy get a new owner?”

I had just climbed into the armored SUV leaving the Moretti estate when the gatekeeper hurried after me with a black encrypted phone in his hand. "Mrs. Westmore, Don Moretti asked me to give you this." I took it. One unread message glowed on the screen. [Selena only had a scare. I'll come home tomorrow. Don't overthink it.] I stared at it for two seconds, popped out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into the rain outside the window. The next day, I had just reached the abandoned shipyard in North Harbor when encrypted messages started hitting my backup phone one after another. [Vivian, where are you?] [Why aren't you home? Where the hell did you go this late?] [Answer me. Don't make me send men all over the city looking for you.] The last one was exactly his style: soft on the surface, arrogant underneath. [Your family survives under my protection. Don't test my patience.] I didn't answer. After countless messages sank without a reply, my husband finally drove to the old Westmore grounds at North Harbor. He knew that if anything was left of my family, I would be there. But when Damon pushed through the broken iron gate, he found no guards, no household staff, and no Westmore men waiting for orders. The old house stood hollow in the rain. Its windows were blown out, the front steps were black with soot, and the air still carried the bitter smell of smoke and gunpowder. Damon grabbed a passing harbor guard by the sleeve. "Where are the Westmores?" The guard looked at him as if he should already know. "Gone. The family was hit two nights ago. Whoever came for them knew exactly when Moretti protection would be pulled from the harbor." "Miss Westmore came back before dawn," the guard added. "She took the black-gold signet, a few boxes of ledgers, and whatever papers survived the fire." "After that, she left. And no one has seen her since."

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"