"You’re late," Anton said, his voice sounding hollow in the dampened air.
Here is a short original piece written in the spirit of Lukyanenko’s work—blending the mundane with the supernatural: The Threshold of the Gray knigi s lukianenko skachat besplatno
He reached out, not with his hand, but with that strange, internal sense that marked him as an Other. The world blurred. The vibrant colors of the kitchen faded into monochromatic shades of gray. Moss began to creep up the legs of the table—the slow-growing parasite of the first level of the Twilight that fed on human apathy. "You’re late," Anton said, his voice sounding hollow