LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 12: Oblivion's Crucible
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### **I: The Descent**
Diane Peters awoke to a red sky—not the crimson of sunsets, but a sickly, clotting hue that pressed down like a wound. Her body screamed. Every muscle burned as if her veins pumped liquid fire. The crater around her reeked of sulfur and decay, its walls slick with black ichor. A baby's cry echoed, sharp and unnatural.
*Where am I?* She clawed at the dirt, nails breaking. *This isn't Earth. This isn't—*
A creature crested the crater's edge—a spider's bloated body fused with a newborn's head, its mandibles dripping venom. Diane froze, terror locking her lungs. Beside her, a small purple-eyed being scrambled futilely up the slope.
*Protect her.* The thought pierced the haze. Maternal instinct overrode fear.
A pressure exploded in Diane's skull. White light erupted from her palms, blasting the monstrosity into gore. The recoil hurled her backward, skull cracking against stone.
A slap shattered the ringing silence.
"Wake up, *worm*," snarled a woman in battle armor, her blue hair crackling with static. "You're not dead yet."
Diane's vision swam. "Who…?"
"Calypso. Your *guide*." She forced Diane's jaw open and poured venom from the spider's sac down her throat. "Survive this, and you'll be stronger. Fail, and Oblivion feasts on your bones."
Agony followed. Diane's body convulsed, muscles knotting as the venom rewrote her DNA. Skin thickened into iridescent scales. Bones crackled, reforged for triple gravity. When the spasms ceased, Calypso was gone, leaving only a warning: *"The little one is yours now. Keep her alive."*
The purple-eyed creature—a *Lurien*, her System whispered—stirred weakly. Diane cradled her, shaking. *Why me?*
Above, unseen observers debated her fate.
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### **II: Orion's Burden**
Mike Peters floated in a void of equations, his consciousness reassembling. Memories flickered: lab coats, Diane's laughter, Tom's first steps. Then—*nothing*. Erasure.
**"You are a paradox, Dr. Peters."**
The Celestial Council's voice carved into his mind. He materialized in a realm of shifting geometries, facing a figure cloaked in starlight—Orion, the hunter. No. *Himself reborn*.
**"Your wife's meddling birthed you anew,"** the Council intoned. **"Serve as our Arbiter. Hunt the anomalies… including her."**
Mike's—*Orion's*—hands trembled. "My children…?"
**"Irrelevant. You are ours now."**
They showed him Tom spinning the Golden Roulette Wheel, Stacy's System-glitched eyes. Diane, screaming in Oblivion.
*I have to fix this.*
But the Council's will clamped down. **"You will bind her to the Loom. Or we unmake them all."**
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### **III: The Grind of Divinity**
Weeks in Oblivion blurred. Diane's System—a cruel gift from Calypso—tracked her brutal evolution:
**[Status: Diane Peters]**
▸ **Class:** Ascendant Mortal (Lv. 15)
▸ **Abilities:**
- *Psionic Surge (Unstable)*
- *Venomforged Physiology*
- *Gravity Adaptation*
▸ **Mutation:** 22% Celestial Hybrid
She named the Lurien *Lira*, after the daughter she'd lost. Together, they survived spider-beasts, acid storms, and the whispers of Oblivion's void. Each kill fed Diane's power—and her System's cold metrics:
**[Venom Harvested: 87%]**
▸ *Next Evolution: Psionic Resonance*
But the cost mounted. Lira's purple eyes dimmed with each shared meal. "You… hurt," she signed, her small hands trembling.
"I have to," Diane whispered, gutting a scorpion-like abomination. "To get us home."
*Home.* The word felt hollow.
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### **IV: The Arbiter's Trial**
Orion materialized in Oblivion, cloaked in starfire. Diane didn't recognize him—not through the cosmic distortion, not through his grief.
**"You've grown stronger,"** he boomed, masking his voice. **"But strength alone won't save you."**
He struck, testing her. Diane retaliated with a psionic blast that cracked his armor.
"Who *are* you?!" she demanded.
**"Your judge."**
Lira lunged, biting his wrist. Orion recoiled, static flickering to reveal Mike's face—for a heartbeat.
Diane froze. "Mike…?"
He vanished, the Council's leash yanking him back. *I'm sorry.*
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### **V: The Ascension**
Calypso returned on the day Diane hit **Level 30**. The Lurien lay dying, poisoned by a creature's spine.
"You failed," Calypso said coldly.
"No." Diane plunged her hands into Lira's chest, psionic energy suturing the wound. **"I adapt."**
The System flared:
**[Mutation Complete: 100%]**
▸ *New Class: Celestial Weaver*
▸ *Ability Unlocked: Reality Mend*
Oblivion trembled as Diane's power surged. Calypso smirked. "Good. Now, the real work begins."
She thrust a shard of the Weaver's Loom into Diane's chest. Visions exploded—Tom's Wheel, Stacy's starship, Mike's torment.
*"You're a goddess now,"* Calypso whispered. *"But every thread you weave costs a piece of your soul."*
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### **VI: The Prison of Purpose**
Diane's throne was forged from Loom shards, her divinity a chain. She watched Mike—Orion—hunt her children under the Council's command.
*You'll hate me,* she thought, weaving starlight into the Sword of Sindore. *But I'll save you all.*
When Tom spun the Wheel to confront the Arbiter Prime, Diane channeled her power through Xina's blade.
*"Find the Loom,"* she whispered across time. *"Break the cycle."*
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### **VII: – Threads Unspooled**
In Oblivion's ruins, Lira—now a Voidweaver seedling—crawled from the crater. Diane's psionic imprint guided her:
**"Find Tom. Protect him."**
And in the Council's prison, Orion clutched a hologram of his family, his resolve cracking.
*I'm coming, Diane. Wait for me.*
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