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The Divine Realm, an ethereal abode consisting of deities and supreme existences, stands at a risk of destruction at the hands of one of its creators. Under such a perilous situation, the emergence of a prophecy attracts the attention of many. The prophetic child, unlike the expectations of many, is a half-breed? Watch as the Son of Chaos breaks through his shackles, shocking the world with his antics. Watch as Noah Numen shatters expectations, and either rescues or destroys the Divine Realm, in which Gods reside. "Prophetic Numen: Void and Chaos" is a gripping tale of ascendance, one that features the journey of the prophesized savior of the world of Gods. --------------- If you like PNCV, don't forget to give "The Horatius Era" a try. If you enjoy this novel, don't forget to leave a powerstone and add it to your collection. Premium will be available soon. Sincerely, AceAmbrosia.

AceAmbrosia · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
19 Chs

Prologue: Never Enough

(Noah Numen POV)

"Good morning, Dad," I greeted, hopping from the third stair down to the hard, wooden floor before grasping my ankle in pain.

My dad chuckled as a display of mockery for my careless act, and I simply glared at him.

"Could you be any less clumsy?" my dad asked rhetorically, spreading jam over his slice of bread while ignoring my groans.

My dad, Magnus Numen, was a middle-aged man in his thirties. His body was incredibly attractive, according to him and a few of his colleagues, but I only saw him as average.

He had a bushy, brown moustache with a clean-shaven jaw.

His eyes were a dark shade of verdant green, while his hair was light brown.

With slicked-back hair, I had to admit he seemed a bit attractive, which was why he received marriage proposals basically every single day from his colleagues.

However, after losing the love of his life, my mom, he never wished to remarry.

He focused solely on me, ignoring even his job to spend time with me and assist me in my studies. However, I never lived up to his expectations.

With average grades, I was a disgrace to him and his legacy as valedictorian in one of the most prestigious universities on the planet. I admired him for his achievement, but I wasn't a genius.

Neither was he, according to him. He credited his hard work and dedication for his achievements, which sounded like boasts to me.

Anyway, I digress.

Still in pain, I limped to the dining table before plopping down on the chair. Grabbing a slice of bread, I quickly applied butter to it. My dad watched in amusement as I struggled to get the butter off the knife.

"Need a bit of help?" he asked, revealing a toothy grin.

"Yes, please," I replied, to which he nodded in understanding. I handed him my slice of bread and the knife of butter.

"You have to be smooth with it," he explained as he perfectly spread the butter on the slice of bread. I sighed, wondering why my dad had to be so perfect.

Yet, it was a quality I admired. If not for his perfectionism in both practicality and mentality, our family would have collapsed immediately after Mom's death.

My dad didn't even cry at her funeral.

It wasn't because he was heartless. Of course not. It was due to him wanting to maintain a strong front. He wished to not let me witness his weak side, for which I was grateful.

But I sometimes wished he would open up to me. In his pursuit of being the strong one, he closed himself off from me.

We only discussed things about me and never about him.

After spreading the butter atop my slice of bread, he handed the toast back to me. I thanked him before stuffing it into my mouth in a hurry.

"Your breakfast isn't running away, y'know?" my dad chuckled, watching me stuff my face as if looking at an idiot. There was warmth in his eyes, but it was distant.

"I have to get to school early," I stated. "I forgot to complete my Algebra Homework."

"And you didn't tell me about it?" my dad asked in a voice higher than his usual tone. His eyes turned cold. I gulped in fear, but I didn't dare respond to his rhetorical question. "How many times have I told you to inform me of any homework?"

"I forgot," I said before swinging my backpack atop my shoulder. I grabbed my binder and was about to head out.

However, a sharp, authoritative tone stopped me in my tracks.

"Sit down, young man," my dad ordered, and I relented. Sitting back in my seat, I lowered my head. "Your midterms are coming up, yet you're slacking off?"

"I'm sorry," I said in a nigh inaudible voice. Yet, it rang clearly in my dad's superhuman ears.

"You're sorry? Is that all you have to say? Do you know how much I do for this household, yet you're slacking off without care?" Dad shouted, slamming the table using his palms.

I shrunk in my seat, wishing to disappear from the world. I loved my dad, but he took things too far.

So what if I was slacking off? My grades were average, and I didn't need to be a genius like him just to end up in a regular job.

It was true. He worked his entire life simply to end up as a paralegal in a third-rate law firm.

"As soon as you come back, we will start preparations for your midterms," said my dad before leaving the room in anger.

I simply sat on my chair, allowing a single tear to stream down my cheeks. Was I ever good enough for him?

Sighing in defeat, I headed to the door before slamming it shut as I exited my house.

Suppressing my sobs, I allowed my wobbly feet to carry me to my destination. Retrieving my headphones from my pocket, I inserted them into my ear before playing a few songs.

I walked along the sidewalk, allowing the rays of dawn to shine on my face, proving it with an unreal glow. Not that I cared, of course.

After walking aimlessly for a few minutes, I came across the alley I usually walked through to reach school early. In order to complete my homework before the first period began, I needed to reach my destination quickly.

As I walked through the shady alley, however, the noise of footsteps entered my ears.

It was weird, considering I'd never met someone in the alley. Furthermore, it contained abandoned, broken houses that no one cared to renovate.

Feeling my heart race, I sped up. However, the footsteps did, too.

Soon, I began sprinting, but so did the footsteps. Suddenly, I felt my heart beat for the last time as a knife pierced through it. My breath turned ragged before stopping completely.

The last words I heard were…

"Shit, he only had twenty bucks on him."

Then, my life faded.

This is the initiation of my second novel.

If you liked "The Horatius Era," give this novel a try. Chapters will be released at either 22:00 or 10:00 (GMT +8).

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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