In ancient Greek, kháos (χάος) was not disorder-In ancient Greek, khάος (χάος) primarily meant "emptiness," "void," "chasm," or "abyss". It referred to the primordial void that existed before the creation of the cosmos and the emergence of other beings. This "gap" or "chasm" was not necessarily a state of disorder, but rather an undefined state of nothingness before the universe took form. Diaphthora (διαφθορά) meant not just destruction, but slow undoing. A rot that starts in silence, a whisper in the foundation before the walls begin to crack. It is seduction that tastes like truth, corruption disguised as love, a sweetness that poisons from within. It is not the explosion, it is the erosion. Not the fall, but the weakening of the will before it. Where Chaos is the beginning, Diaphthora is what follows when beginnings are betrayed. This is the story of Elena-who she was before becoming Arabella's mother, and who she is after. You'll come to know the architecture of her soul, the secrets she carries, and the unexpected presence that blooms within her: Love. Unwelcome. Unthinkable. Undeniable. This is not a love story. But in some strange way, it is. Through Elena, we are led to Arabella, her daughter, her mirror, her contradiction. From childhood into adolescence, Arabella's story slowly entangles with Aaron's. Their connection is not born of mere coincidence or fleeting attraction-it is deep-rooted, ancient almost, shaped by the legacies and shadows of both their families. The closer they get, the more they uncover about themselves, each other, and the tangled web that binds their lineages. Their lives keep returning to each other, like gravity. But they were never meant to last. Their families made sure of that. The same blood that binds them is what pulls them apart. Because some people are not meant to be together. And some stories were never meant to end gently. If you loved Ludos, welcome back.

She was never meant to be touched. Raised to kill, trained to command, to destroy, to disappear. Her heart was a locked box-sealed by duty, guarded by ghosts. People loved her light, feared her strength, envied her silence. But no one ever asked what it cost her to stay closed. He wasn't supposed to get close. A rebel in the wrong place, in the wrong war, with too much kindness in his eyes and a bad habit of saying the wrong thing at the worst time. He never meant to fall for the one person the world told him to hate. But she made him want to stay. To be better. To stop running. Everyone warned him. "Don't get too close." "Don't try to open her." "Don't ask her heart for anything it can't give." But some boxes aren't cursed because of what's inside. They're cursed because of what might happen if someone opens them... and stays. And he did.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒐'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒐'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕?

مكتوب ❝𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒕𝒖𝒃. 𝑰𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔, 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒕. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐, 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒐.❞ ❝𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝑰'𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕? 𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔? 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐?❞ ❝𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔.❞