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Sleep Storm Sounds

The Quiet Storm:Stillness Kills

“You want strength? Real strength? Sit down. Shut up. Don’t move.” In a world where mixed martial arts has evolved far beyond its origins, the mightiest fighters shatter mountains, raze cities with one blow, and, at their peak, wield power to erase nations. These greatest warriors are called Martial Gods—monsters in human form, living centuries, shaping continents with their will. Alexander will become one. No prophecy chooses him. No system empowers him. No heavens favor him. He has only raw, monstrous talent, an unyielding will, and a hunger that consumes all obstacles. He seeks the harshest training—the kind that breaks bodies, shatters minds, crushes spirits. He finds it in a crumbling dojo, lost to the world, ruled by a bitter old man who forged an art he calls Beyonider. The world mocks it. They call it folly. It is anything but. The first lesson is not power. Not speed. Not glory. It is silence. Stillness. Suffering. Training so brutal, so strange, that hardened fighters flee in a day. Alexander stays. He endures. He adapts. He transforms. Motionless meditation becomes monstrous. His reflexes outstrip humanity. His strikes hit before foes move. His mind turns stillness into deadly precision, chaos into control, weakness into unstoppable force. This is merely the dawn. His path leads to the ranks of the Martial Gods—or the graveyard of those who dared the climb. Stillness kills. Alexander will prove it to the world.
Ishowvoice · 2.2K Views

Elves Are Sleeping Beauties

I like text-to-speech so I'm giving a shot at present tense second person writing to lean into a listener's POV. Enjoy! I use Sonia en-GB for the narrator at 1.2 or 1.5 times speed. Might want to read this part, I kind of left it out the story by making it the synopsis by accident lol. Tavern doors never close on the festive dockside. Traders, settlers, wanderers, and outlaws gather, drawn by the excitement of the New World. The air smells of smoke, salt and sweat, sails catch wind beside steam locomotives' whistles and pistons, each vessel either arriving with strange goods and stranger tales or departing with the thunderous farewells. You step aboard one of them, another spirited adventurer in the crowd, and spend months at sea from docks to coasts, continents to isles, to steam across a windless sea under an endless night sky. When sunlight hits your deck once more, it reveals the New World's waters, like pouring paint into the void. You see the distant sails in the harbour of a forested continent and cheer with the exclamations of waking passengers upon seeing the continent, name pending, no sovereigns and no laws. The landing of all those visiting from the Old World, a boiling pot of all kinds of cultures with each person's distinct flavours of friends, enemies, grudges and dreams. Without hesitation you leave it behind and vanish into the forest, wanting simply to dedicate your life to exploring the interior of the continent. How surprising is it when you found that the elves are all sleeping beauties! Capture them all! Hahahahahahahaha!
lostatlas · 7K Views
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