Rust Oil Rig

Rain stained the neon skyline, dripping off rusted houses as she checked her wrist—no ID, no signal, no past. Liora doesn’t exist. At least, not officially. But the encrypted memories digging at the edge of her mind tell a different story. When The Clan pulls her into their war, she realizes the city didn’t forget her. Whispering her name like an old wound, it's just waiting for her to wake up. And when she does, the world might be rebuilt. Or burnt down.

What would you give for what your soul craves? Would you sever an arm to strike a knave? For but a drop upon your dry tongue, what would you trade? Otto, a hunter rotted in rave, Longs for joy, even with ashen chains collar his will. he is a slave … yet time will rust both chains and will..

Having traveled to America in the year 1862, this was the beginning of a dream, the finest of times. What constitutes a true master of success? Having some notable descendants hardly counts for anything. To build an Oil Empire alongside Rockefeller To place Carnegie on the throne of the steel magnate To help Ford propel the industrialization of automobiles worldwide To lead Edison to monopolize the future of the electrical industry To be an Angel Investor for Morgan's capital Hear this, applause!

Once, there was light. Once, there were men who believed in gods, who built their kingdoms atop the bones of the fallen and drank deep from the veins of the earth, thinking themselves mighty. But the light is gone now, and the gods have drowned in the black tide of their own deceit. The world is a vast and seething thing, its skies thick with smoke that does not rise from fire but from something deeper, older—something that has been watching, waiting, hungering. The cities stand like mausoleums, their spires reaching desperately for heavens that no longer listen. In the great courts of the nobles, the masked and the damned play at civility, waltzing on floors slick with centuries of betrayal. They are not men anymore, not truly—they are echoes, puppets pulled by unseen strings, twisting their knives in games of power that no longer matter. The kings of death, their crowns rusted and their flesh long decayed, whisper prophecies of endings even they cannot fathom. Beneath the streets, beneath the stone, beneath the very skin of the world, something writhes. The dead do not sleep here, they do not rest—they plot. They whisper in voices like cracking bone, singing hymns of ruin to deities who no longer speak, who have forgotten even their own names. And yet, their will remains, etched into the marrow of creation itself. And then there is him. He has no past, no name worth carving into the annals of history. He is not a hero, nor a villain, nor even a man—he is a force, a wound torn through the fabric of a dying world. He does not rage because he chooses to. He rages because it is all there is left. He has seen the suffering, the endless cycles of deception, of power shifting from one wretched hand to another. He has seen the gods rise and fall, has watched kings build their empires only to drown in their own excess. He does not seek to rule, nor to save—he seeks only to end. But the world is not so kind as to simply burn and be done with it. No, it fights. It writhes. It plots. There are things older than kings, older than gods—things that do not want salvation, do not want balance, but only to exist, to keep the cycle turning, to let the suffering continue because it must. They whisper in the ears of the desperate, promising power, promising escape, promising meaning where there is none. They have no faces, no forms, only presence, seeping into the hearts of men, into the bones of reality itself. And so, the game continues. The nobles lie. The kings rot. The gods stir. The dead plot. And he—he burns. But even fire is not enough to cleanse this world, for the embers do not die. They scatter, carried by winds that have no master, to be caught in the hands of the next fool who thinks they are strong enough to wield them. There is no hope. No salvation. No final mercy. Only the great unraveling, the long decay, the inevitable ruin. And the jester? The jester does not laugh. For what laughter could exist in a world that has already lost?

Being the son of the Alpha wasn’t easy for Aspen “Rust” SilverClaw. Too sensitive, too weak, too emotional—but still burdened with a pride that didn’t quite fit his frail frame. His mother’s be-okay pills were supposed to help him blend in, to suppress whatever it was that made him different. But when they fail, Aspen is forced to confront a truth more terrifying than any insult his pack had ever thrown at him. He’s an omega. The omega son of the SilverClaw Pack. When an ancient prophecy resurfaces—one that foretells Aspen as the one destined to kill his own alpha mother and kill all wolf kind at the dawn of the blood moon —the pack stirs into chaos. With the blood moon rising and civil war between the packs inevitable, Aspen will have to decide—will he fight to become the Alpha his pack needs, or embrace the monster prophecy claims him to be? (Trigger warnings will be added: Sexual Assault) (Acts committed in this story do not indicate that it should be normalised or condoned)

He was born a stain in the werewolf code, a phantom in human society. He learned the rules of survival in the rust-stench of junkyards. When three women reached into the abyss to save him: One with ink-stained hands, offering a dagger of salvation; One with a serpent’s silver bracelet, gripping a bloodied scepter; The last with ballerina gauze, hiding a poison-dipped rose. He paid in scars to understand: The cages woven from gold by humans, the thrones forged from bloodlines by wolves—they were all the same prison. When the crimson moon rises, the new king must choose: Let three loves become claws to tear the world apart, Or shatter his pride to forge a path never seen— A third road between species.

In the aftermath of Shadows Protocol, the world remains a perilous landscape of covert missions, political intrigues, and underground conflicts. As tensions between nations escalate, Pakistan’s elite intelligence team, led by the seasoned agent Zayan Malik, faces their greatest challenge yet—a rescue mission fraught with deception, betrayal, and unexpected alliances. It all begins with the sudden and mysterious disappearance of Zayan during a crucial mission in Lebanon. Tasked with intercepting and dismantling joint Israeli and Indian covert operations, the mission ends in catastrophe. A massive explosion rocks the target area, and Zayan is presumed dead, caught in the blast. His team—comprising Ubaid, Irfan, Kashif, and Captain Rizwan—finds themselves reeling from the loss of their leader, grappling with grief, doubt, and a profound sense of betrayal. The mission, which had seemed straightforward, now hangs over them as an unsolved mystery. Ten days pass in an agonizing blur of mourning and frustration until Aaliya, the team’s brilliant intelligence specialist, intercepts a cryptic communication hinting that Zayan might still be alive, held captive in Israel. The faint hope reignites the team’s determination, and Major Hamza, their chief, authorizes a new mission. The stakes are higher than ever as they covertly enter Israel, operating under intense scrutiny and evading a network of traps. However, the trail leads them to nothing—a carefully orchestrated ruse to lure them into enemy territory. Humiliated and disheartened, the team returns home, their trust in the intelligence community shaken, but Aaliya remains unconvinced that this is the end of their search. Months pass with no solid leads until a fragment of intelligence surfaces, pointing towards an oil refinery in the depths of Iraq. The team, though battered by the earlier failure, seizes this opportunity. They gather their equipment, resolve bolstered by the possibility that Zayan might be closer than ever. Major Hamza authorizes the mission, knowing the risks but also understanding that this could be their last chance to save their comrade. The journey to Iraq is fraught with peril, the team navigating hostile terrain, avoiding enemy patrols, and using every trick in their book to remain undetected. Every step they take is a step closer to a potential ambush, but they move with purpose, each of them understanding that this is a mission they cannot afford to fail. The refinery stands in a barren desert, surrounded by armed guards, patrolled by drones, and fortified with defenses. The team moves under the cover of night, taking up positions around the target. Ubaid, Irfan, and Kashif, with the patience of seasoned operatives, wait for the perfect moment to strike. Aaliya monitors the situation from afar, guiding them through the labyrinthine pathways and providing vital surveillance. As dawn approaches, the atmosphere is electric with tension, every sound amplified in the quiet desert night. Suddenly, the operation erupts into a firefight, bullets ricocheting off metal structures and grenades detonating amidst the chaos. The refinery becomes a battlefield, the echoes of gunfire blending with the sounds of the desert. The team pushes forward, cutting through the defenses and leaving a trail of destruction behind them. They know the cost of hesitation—failure means losing Zayan forever, and they are prepared to make any sacrifice necessary. Deep within the refinery’s underground levels, they locate a fortified chamber. The sight inside shocks them—Zayan, their leader, chained and barely conscious, his body bruised and battered from days of captivity. Hope mingles with fury as they realize the true extent of his ordeal. Ubaid, his voice cracking, sends a desperate message back to Major Hamza: "الحمداللہ sir, Zayan is alive and he's with us, but he's badly injured. Mission accomplished."

In a world where nobles wield magic like weapons and commoners are little more than pawns, Priam Lockhart—a sarcastic, pragmatic anti-hero—finds himself reincarnated as the butler to Seraphine de Valois, the ruthless villainess of a dating sim game. Tasked with navigating a treacherous academy filled with scheming nobles, jealous love interests, and a system rigged against him, Priam must use his wit, game knowledge, and hidden talents to survive. But when he crosses paths with Liana Hart, the game’s kind-hearted heroine with a dangerous secret, Priam’s plans for a quiet life unravel. As he works to change Seraphine’s fate and protect Liana from those who would exploit her, he finds himself entangled in a web of political intrigue, betrayal, and romance. With a harem of powerful women vying for his loyalty and a kingdom on the brink of chaos, Priam must decide: will he play the game, or rewrite the rules entirely? Themes: A reluctant hero in a world of villains. Slow-burn romance with a touch of harem politics. High-stakes magic, political intrigue, and epic duels. A witty, overpowered MC who just wants a peaceful life (but never gets it). Perfect for fans of: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! The Eminence in Shadow Trapped in a Dating Sim: The World of Otome Games is Tough for Mobs

The sky over Karvess was the color of rust. Thick, swirling dust clouds hung low over the scrap fields, coating everything in a layer of fine, red powder. Jagged heaps of broken metal stretched as far as the eye could see, the discarded bones of an age long past. Somewhere in the middle of it all, a boy named Grant sat atop a gutted transport hull, staring up at the vastness above. "Same old sky," he muttered, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "Same old nothing." It had been six years since he'd been left to fend for himself, abandoned in this wasteland of shattered starships and forgotten tech. Six years of scraping by, salvaging parts to trade for food, dodging scavengers meaner and hungrier than he was. But today was different. Today, his life would change forever. A sharp hum filled the air, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His hands, buried in the exposed circuitry of a wrecked cockpit, tingled as the old display flickered to life. Then, a voice spoke. -System activated- Hello, user. I am the Star Navigator System. I am at your service. Grant froze. His heart hammered against his ribs. This wasn’t just any old ship AI. Star Navigators were rumored to be relics of the Pre-Imperial Era, capable of piloting ships faster and smarter than any modern system. This... this could be his way out. "Star Navigator System?" Grant echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, a slow grin spread across his face. "Huh, maybe I can get into the Academy with this... Or even, create an army!" The screen pulsed with light, scanning him, assessing. Somewhere in its code, something shifted, acknowledging him as its new pilot. And just like that, Grant's future stretched wide before him—wider than the skies, wider than the stars themselves.

Cesare Caruso, a renowned actor and a global superstar, appeared to have it all—fame, fortune, and an impeccable reputation. Yet, hidden beneath the surface was a secret he had guarded for years—he was an Omega. That carefully guarded secret came crashing down in one fateful night, during a glamorous masquerade ball aboard a luxurious cruise ship. Overwhelmed by an unexpected heat cycle, Cesare loses control of himself, devoured by his own desires and falling into the arms of a mysterious Alpha—a reckless moment that changed everything. [Zahir al-Tamid. That’s my name.] To his shock, the Alpha was Zahir—a proud prince from an oil-rich kingdom and an unwelcome figure from Cesare’s past. Worse, that night left Cesare unexpectedly pregnant! Before Cesare could make sense of it all, Zahir made a grand entrance at Cesare’s mansion by helicopter, uninvited, catching the attention of major media outlets around the world, demanding a settlement claiming that Cesare shall be responsible for ‘imprinting’ a royal family like him! “...Seriously, it’s not as if I have a ludicrous $2 billion just lying around, you know.” “Thus, marry me, Cesare.” Pregnancy, imprinting, and a royal marriage proposal—showered by a series of unwanted events, Cesare is desperate to find a way to cut ties with Zahir. But Zahir, stubborn and relentless, has no plans to let go. Can Cesare outrun the tempest, or will it pull him under? #BL #Omegaverse #Obsessive #Crybaby #One-sideLove #Prince #Superior Text copyright ⓒ 2024 by Kim Sol Da All right reserved. The Korean edition was originally written by 김솔다, Korea Translated and Published by We’ve Lab.

When Mara Kline returns to her late grandmother’s remote house in Canada to settle its affairs, she expects dust and silence. Instead, she finds a relic of the past—a rotary phone in the attic that inexplicably rings despite being unplugged. Against her better judgment, she answers. On the other end is Ellie, a frightened girl claiming she is hiding somewhere in the very same house—but in 1999. A masked man with a burlap-covered face and a rusted knife is hunting her. At first, Mara dismisses the calls as a cruel prank or a lingering symptom of her childhood trauma. But soon, reality itself begins to shift. Muddy footprints appear on the hardwood floor when no one is there. Familiar objects rearrange themselves into echoes of her past. A fresh scar forms on her arm, mirroring the injuries Ellie describes in real time. The deeper she digs, the more the house tightens its grip, twisting time and memory until past and present blur into one waking nightmare. As the calls grow more desperate, Mara realizes the masked figure may not be a stranger—it may be something far worse: a manifestation of her father’s grief and rage, shaped by loss and twisted by time. Old diaries appear, filled with entries she doesn’t remember writing. Visions of a childhood she thought she had buried claw their way back into her mind. Trapped in a house that refuses to let go, Mara must unravel the truth before she becomes just another ghost of its history. But even if she breaks the cycle, some echoes never truly fade.

In a city veiled in oil-stained mist and the dim glow of gaslight, where the grind of steel and the hiss of steam never cease, a man awakens in a body that is not his own. Victor Holloway, an ordinary man from Earth, now walks in the skin of Elias Vayne—a detective whose reputation is built more on deception than achievements, a man who was just murdered for reasons unknown. With fractured memories and an identity that doesn’t quite fit, Victor is drawn into a case stranger than anything he has ever encountered. A murder wiped from existence, with witnesses who speak only in riddles. Yet in this world of secrets and shifting allegiances, greater powers loom beyond mortal schemes. The Churches of the Four Original Gods—ancient institutions of faith, influence, and hidden agendas—watch the game unfold, sometimes as allies, sometimes as immovable obstacles. The deeper he delves, the more he realizes—this world is nothing but a stage, where truth is fluid, and masks are worn by all. There are no certainties, no absolutes, only the game he must now play. Beneath the blackened rain, the whisper of turning gears, and the ever-present haze of smoke, Victor Holloway must embrace the role thrust upon him. A Detective. A Victim. A Liar. A Saviour. A Pactmaker. This is a tale woven from lies and deception. The tale of a Trickster.

In a world where shadows lurk unseen, Paritraan is not your typical hero. Born from loss and forged in hardship, he abandoned his dreams to support his struggling family—only to lose everything. Left broken after his mother’s mysterious death, he stumbles upon Anahata, a sentient machine from a forgotten civilization, who offers him more than just power—it offers him purpose. With scraps and technology far beyond human comprehension, Paritraan crafts his own suit of Armor and weapons to wage war against hidden enemies who threaten humanity from the shadows. As he unravels the dark conspiracy behind his mother’s death, he discovers that aliens walk among humans, and not all of them come in peace. But being a hero isn’t easy. Haunted by his past, hunted by unknown forces, and burdened by an AI that’s as playful as it is powerful, Paritraan must rise above his pain. Because in the fight for humanity’s future, even a hero forged from scrap can shine brighter than steel. In this battle between light and shadow, will Paritraan’s redemption be the world’s salvation?

Landen Vacheron, heir to a fortune built on oil and ambition, has lived his life as a wealthy playboy, the world bowing to his every whim, thanks to the empire his billionaire father, Colton Vacheron, forged. But as his older brother Vance steps into the role of CEO, Landen begins to see that the true cost of power and privilege is far greater than he ever imagined. Avara Du Pont is a devoted daughter who set aside her own dreams to bolster her father’s political aspirations. Unaware of his dark secrets. When it comes to light, Colton Vacheron offers him a proposition he cannot refuse; a marriage alliance between Avara and Vance, as a way for him to garner more political influence. And Mayor Du Pont will receive a king’s ransom as payment to stave off the shadows spilling into his life. Avara agrees to the fake relationship in order to protect her family from her father's criminal ties.

The Dewan Group, also known as the Dewan Mushtaq Group (DMG), is one of Pakistan's most prominent and diversified industrial conglomerates. Established approximately 80 years ago, the group has evolved into a professionally managed entity with a significant presence in various sectors. Throughout the 1990s, DMG's flagship company, Dewan Salman Fibre, was recognized as the top-rated private company in Pakistan. The group's industrial diversity was unparalleled, encompassing nine listed companies across sectors such as textiles, synthetic fibers, sugar and allied products, oil and gas exploration, automotive assembly and parts manufacturing, cement, and general trading. In the automotive sector, DMG was notable for distributing luxury brands like BMW and Rolls Royce in Pakistan. The group also ventured into retail with DMART shops and employed approximately 16,000 individuals at its peak. Despite facing financial challenges in the late 2000s, including significant debt defaults, the Dewan Group has remained a key player in Pakistan's industrial landscape. Its commitment to economic growth and sectoral diversification continues to contribute significantly to the country's development. Today, the Dewan Group comprises over 17 companies, employing more than 12,000 personnel, with an annual turnover of around Rs. 46 billion (USD 759 million) and fixed assets exceeding Rs. 27 billion (USD 447 million).

Lily gulped, it's the 'devil'. She said in her mind with her hands still trembling. Raven picked the phone from the girl's hand, turning it off, he said, "You don't want to do that. Now run along and forget everything that happened here, little girl." His voice low and chilly to the bone. _ _ _ Sunshine Meets Grumpy He's a hitman, a hacker, a serpent slithering through the city's underbelly. Not a hero, not even close. The mafia's ghost in the machine, shadows his only companions. Then, there's her. Bookish, buried in debt and dreams, juggling endless shifts and late-night study sessions. Sunflower yellow amidst the grimy alleys, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath her hopeful smile. "Plain," they call her, "basic." But her light, it's undeniable. One fated night, a muttered curse, a stolen glance. Their worlds, oil and water, are destined to collide. Can sunshine melt the frost around a killer's heart? Or will their tangled destinies ignite a storm that consumes them both?

Theodore Griffith was a master of Reality. He understood the parallel universe in the form of another reality. He was aware that someone’s wish, story, or pure imagination could give birth to a new reality just like his own. Hence, he planned to find the creator of his reality by roaming among the realities. This time, he entered a new reality connected to several other realities. However, what made him certain the most was that this reality was connected to the person who created his reality. He knew that fact because of the ability he gained in this world. He could actually see people’s comments, allowing him to realize that his entire life and reality were born from a story. “Hehe. You have made a mistake in making me realize this. With the readers on my back, I can force you, the author, to make a plot for us to meet.” Theo said while giggling. “That’s why I’m counting on you guys.” --------- Other Works: 1. Oil Tycoon: Let's Find Oil in a Martial World 2. God of Tricksters (Completed) 3. Gacha Sovereign (Completed) 4. The Magician of Sound (Completed) 5. Reincarnated to Bonk in Another World (Completed)

Rhys, a guy who wakes up in a vast, snow-covered forest with no memories—only a name and a rusted key. As he searches for answers, he slowly figures out who this guy named "Rhys" truly is. He tries everything to gain his memories back. Will he succeed?

Souta Tachibana wakes up to his worst nightmare—he's been reincarnated as the arrogant rich villain of a bottom-tier harem anime. His fate? To exist solely so the oblivious protagonist can steal his fiancée, humiliate him in public, and punch him into a fountain at least once per episode. No. Absolutely not. Souta refuses to play along. But the universe isn't giving him a choice. The tsundere swordswoman challenges him to duels over the smallest misunderstandings. The yandere idol keeps poisoning his tea, then acting shocked when he doesn’t die. His shy childhood friend keeps trying to confess something, but gets interrupted by cherry blossom petals every time. And the so-called "hero" of this world? Yeah, he definitely knows he’s in a harem anime—and he's rigging the plot in his favor. Souta just wants to live quietly, but the laws of anime demand his suffering. If he doesn’t find a way to break free from this ridiculous script, he’ll be doomed to play the disposable villain forever. It’s time to outsmart the plot, expose the protagonist, and hijack this stupid harem story before it destroys him.

"Fake it till you make it" It was a phrase that became Leo's only hope for survival as he was forced to play the role of the biggest big boss when he was nothing more than a small fish. Set in a world where Earth is riddled with natural disasters and humans must migrate to new planets onboard massive arc ships, this novel follows the journey of the Skyshard brothers Luke and Leo as they fight against their fate and rise to the top from the lowest of lows. --------------- A/N - This novel will explore the concept of misunderstandings and a MC whose real strength is over exaggerated through a rigged system. It will be a humorous blend of concepts such as Sci-Fi, Fantasy, MMORPG and Slice Of Life into one novel. If you are tired of conventional novels and are looking for something new, This book will definitely satisfy your itch, so please give it a try! Discord - https://discord.com/invite/PPhnY3ZAqH

Jack Frost has always been an outsider—an orphan abandoned at eighteen, struggling to survive in a quiet town where the days bleed together. His only solace is his loyal wolf-dog, Shadow, and the fantasy worlds of web novels and games. But when a strange event transports him into a parallel version of his town, seven days before his original timeline, everything changes. Gifted with the mysterious ability of Fusion Wielding, Jack can merge objects to create something stronger. A broken baseball bat and a knife become a lethal blade. A rusted chain and a steel pipe fuse into an unbreakable whip. And as he experiments with his newfound powers, he discovers another gift—Spatial Storage, a personal dimension with limitless capacity. But Jack isn’t the only one with abilities, and he soon learns that his town hides dark secrets. Hunted by a secret organization, caught in a supernatural war, and forced to forge alliances with others like him, Jack must master his abilities before an unseen enemy tightens its grip. From forging legendary weapons to leading an army of rogue transmigrators, his journey will push him beyond human limits—toward a final battle where reality itself is at stake. In a world where strength is forged, not given, Jack Frost will decide his destiny. Will he remain a mere survivor, or will he become something far greater?

Ren Aldric was an ordinary college student when he was suddenly summoned to a fantasy world as a hero. However, unlike the other summoned warriors, who received powerful abilities, he was deemed the weakest due to his abysmal stats. Mocked by the kingdom and cast aside as useless, he was abandoned in a monster-infested forest, left to die. But fate had other plans. When he grasped a rusted sword in desperation, a strange sensation surged through him. Moments later, an exact copy of the weapon appeared in his hands—completely restored and enhanced. Ren soon realized his true power: the ability to copy and recreate any weapon he touches, even legendary and mythical ones. Armed with this newfound ability, he sets out on a journey of survival, determined to prove his worth. From ancient divine blades to cursed demonic weapons, Ren’s arsenal knows no limits. As he grows stronger, rumors spread of a mysterious warrior wielding legendary armaments, drawing the attention of kingdoms, adventurers, and even the very gods themselves. Betrayed and discarded, Ren will forge his own legend—one weapon at a time.

When Kael Ardyn awakens in the ruins of a long-dead kingdom, he has no memories—only a mysterious system claiming he is the last ruler of a forgotten throne. The land is broken, its people lost or corrupted, and the **Abyss**, a creeping darkness, threatens to consume everything. With nothing but a **rusted sword, a crumbling sanctuary, and a single system prompt**, Kael must **rebuild from nothing.** But survival is not so simple—**Forsaken Wraiths** prowl the night, the remnants of an ancient war whisper in the shadows, and **something—or someone—is watching.** As Kael gathers survivors, **uncovers lost relics, and strengthens his kingdom**, he begins to unravel the **truth behind the fall of the Forgotten Kingdom.** But the more he learns, the clearer it becomes—this kingdom was never meant to rise again. Enemies from the past **will return.** The Abyss **will not be ignored.** And the system that granted him this power? It **may not be his ally after all.** To reclaim his throne, Kael must **defy fate itself.** **The System of Forgotten Kings** is an **epic fantasy web novel** blending **kingdom-building, dark secrets, and RPG-like progression**, perfect for fans of **litRPG, survival, and deep world-building.** This is my first fantasy novel, please support it!

Nicole Rose never wanted to be a hero—she only wanted one thing: a future where her daughter could be happy. When she’s pulled into a brutal, game-like world alongside other contestants, she’s told that winning the competition will grant her a single wish. But survival isn’t as simple as gaining levels and getting stronger. Betrayal lurks in every alliance, the system is rigged against her, and the so-called “observers” seem more interested in watching contestants break than succeed. Power alone won’t be enough to escape. To win, she’ll have to defy fate itself. In a world where failure means death, how far will a mother go to seize happiness?

In a garden, the most beautiful flowers always get picked. Yet the prettiest rose in our garden never got picked, only left to wilt and soon wither. -Baroness Claudia Alstroemer von Cecil

She's afraid of the dark, he embodies it. Most say her dresses are too tight, her heels too tall. She laughs too loud, cries too much, and smokes like her life depends on it, and in some ways it does. Little do they know, it’s just a sparkly disguise, there to hide one panic attack at a time. "As long as they were looking at my body, they'd never see what was behind my eyes." No one can see through Aurelia Cabrera's facade—not until he comes along. Some know him as an emotionless player, his nature as cold as the heart of ice in his chest. He changed through his girlfriends like they were underwear. But that was only because all the ladies loved the way he played his guitar when he and his rock band, "Zeveira", would perform their electrifying songs on stage. With a tendency to pick order and class as his companion, Alexei "Alex" Morozova has never been tempted to veer off course. But perhaps one should never say never... One autumn night and their lives intertwine. She hates him—his arrogance and habit of never taking anything or anyone seriously—but over the years, even as their games consist of insulting each other’s looks and intelligence, she begins to live to play with him. Nowhere in Alexei’s plans had he ever prepared for Aurelia. She’s chaos embodied, not his type, but that can never stop his eyes from following her wherever she goes. All along, she doesn’t even know that she’s his frustration, his fascination - and he's been craving this amount of fun for his entire life. She's his maddest craving. PLEASE READ: Dear reader, I know you've been looking for a good novel recently. Well, you're in luck! Good for you! Fry me in a pot of boiling oil if you didn't enjoy this novel when you finish reading the entirety of it. It's extremely good but you may regret reading it. Why? Because it's also extremely sad. You might never recover from this story. So with that being said, if you cry a lot (when it comes to books and movies) and/or are depressed, I will advise you not to read this. I care about you :) And of course, viewer discretion STRONGLY, HIGHLY advised. Happy reading!! **One chapter every day before 20:00 (24-hour clock)**

USA, Louisiana.. a small town in north-east Louisiana.. if you see a little-bitty tiny dot with the name 'Oak Grove' beside it.. in the most north-east corner of Louisiana.. fifteen minute drive north.. and you' ve crossed into the state of Arkansas.. Or if you would have drove fifteen minutes east instead of north.. you would have crossed over the Mississippi-Louisiana state line.. so that gives you a pretty good general location of the town of my birth.. Unfortunately it wouldn't be the town of my untimely and unexpected death.. nope.. for I would not die in a town.. no.. I would be eventually crushed.. by a section.. of thirty-two inch.. steel.. heavy-wall.. industrial pipe.. for a natural gas line.. being lay'n.. from just north of the cities.. Odessa and Midland.. of the state of Texas.. Over a thousand miles away from my place of birth.. Bastrop.. Louisiana.. where the closest 'safe' hospital was for me to be born at.. forty miles west.. by north-west from where my family had lived for generations.. Oak Grove.. My family has worked as surveyors.. for pipelines and gas or oil facilities.. being built all across this great country on the continent of North America.. for atleast two generations.. If my children take up the mantle.. that would make.. three generations of my family.. to feed and provide for their families.. working as pipeline surveyors.. see Oak Grove is poor.. poor as dirt.. total population.. barely over two thousand.. average gross income per capita per family for a year.. less than ten thousand dollars a year.. there's just no real paying jobs.. in Oak Grove or anywhere near it.. so while the people who choose to work in Oak Grove make ten thousand dollars a year.. I started out as a 'rod-man' which was the lowest man on the 'totem-pole'.. making what those in Oak grove..worked a year for.. I made in a month.. I did nothing but pack bundles of wooden stakes.. then carry them up the mountains of West Virginia.. Or across the deserts of West Texas.. swamps of south Louisiana.. down around Baton Rouge.. or Tibbedaux.. the Everglades of Florida.. fuck I get that nauseous feeling every time I think of when I 'work'd' there.. I walked up on a dead body without a head.. not long after that.. still on the same project I saw the 'headless' corpse on.. I almost stepped on the biggest python I've ever seen.. the fucker was atleast ten feet long and two to three feet wide around.. Anywho, back to what I was talking back before I went off subject for a bit.. I started out making ten thousand dollars every month.. thats twelve times what I would have earned working a month in Oak Grove.. instead of working in these dangerous jobs.. Been a lot of dangerous places.. dangerous terrains.. working in a very hazardous career.. but I was well paid like I said.. and now I don't have a body left to send home to my parents.. that section of pipe.. weigh tens of thousands of pounds.. when the 'Komoda' excavators that were lifting the section tipped.. that was it.. one of the operators didn't extend his 'boom' on his excavator all the way out like he should have.. Now the pipes falling.. as soon as it lands on me.. thats it.. so much weight.. my head will pop and shoot right of my shoulders.. up in the air towards the heavens themselves.. reaches its peak height of its short flight.. then falling.. all whilst my body will be crushed and explode to nothing but splatter'd meat paste.. ending my first life.. trust I've seen it.. I know what will happen from experience.. and so beings the next chapter of life.. I see a tunnel with bright light radiating from then end of it.. as I reach the light I take the final step.. the blinding light recedes and fades away out of existence.. I find my surroundings returning to a lightness that my eyes can afford to see clearly in.. only to meet another pair of eyes facing me.. everything else is shrouded by darkness.. I see only eyes.. staring at me.. staring into me.. starin

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling

That night, Aegis Squad infiltrated an abandoned laboratory complex to capture a mutated zombie alive for research. The air reeked of rusted metal and decay. "Make sure the trap is ready," whispered Major Pan Colman. Lila nodded, checking her device. "Ready, just waiting for the bait." Hart, tracking zombie movement, looked uneasy. "They’re smarter than we thought. We must move fast." From the shadows, a massive mutated zombie with armor-like skin emerged. "Wait for it to step into the trap," Pan whispered. As the creature moved forward, Lila activated the device. Steel clamps trapped it, sending high-voltage shocks that made it thrash violently. Before they could celebrate, Hart panicked. "Major, something big is moving behind us!" From the ruins, a giant zombie with protruding bones emerged, smashing through a wall with unnatural speed. "We need to move, now!" Pan ordered. The squad hauled the trapped zombie into their containment truck, escaping as the complex collapsed behind them. Inside the vehicle, Dr. Alaric muttered, "This isn't normal mutation. The virus is evolving too fast." Hart nodded. "It’s as if someone designed them. But who? And why?" Suddenly, a loud metallic thud echoed from the roof. "What was that?" Lila asked, weapon raised. Hart checked his tablet. "Something's on top of us! But it wasn’t detected before!" Pan signaled. "Rico, stop the vehicle. Lila and I will check." They stepped out and looked up. A tall, gaunt creature with razor-sharp claws clung to the roof, staring at them with soulless black eyes. "What the hell is that?" Lila whispered. The creature lunged with blinding speed. Pan and Lila dodged, but their bullets had no effect. "Get back inside! Now!" Pan commanded. They sprinted back, Rico hitting the gas. Hart read his tablet. "This thing… it's like a predator. Faster, stronger." Dr. Alaric whispered, "If this was made by Dominion, we’re dealing with a far deadlier bioweapon than I imagined." The creature pursued them, closing the distance. Lila and Pan fired, but it dodged effortlessly. In one leap, it grabbed the steel trap containing the mutated zombie. "It’s trying to take the zombie!" Lila yelled. Pan hurled a smoke grenade, forcing the creature to retreat. The vehicle sped away. Inside, tension remained thick. "We can't keep running," Pan stated. "We need to fight back. And we need to find out what Dominion of Varex has really done."

Deep in the colonized fringe of Rigel-4, a disgraced mech cadet becomes the galaxy's deadliest bargaining chip. Kyle Rayne trades his rust-stained wrench for an M-49 ballistics rifle—and a Silver Core neural implant corroding his sanity. But when an armored horde of flesh-devouring Void Worms obliterates his battalion, Kyle uncovers the Dominion’s pact with four cosmic monstrosities feeding on human psionic essence: the Spiritweb Cultivator, Stellar Abyss Devourer, Desire Forge Mech-Spirit, and Shadowghost Wraith. To survive, he must pilot a derelict Titan siege mech hardwired to his dead mother’s DNA—and dismantle an empire selling soldiers as living chaff to alien gods.