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Loid Forger Sleep

Alfa: Merenggut Putri Musuhnya

``` “Kenapa kamu punya bekas luka?” Tiba-tiba, Iris mengubah topik, saat ia menatap mata Cane. Ia masih mencengkeram lengan bajunya. “Ayahmu yang memberi,” jawab Cane. Ia berpikir, Iris tidak akan mengingat percakapan ini ketika dia terbangun. “Itu pasti sangat menyakitkan.” “Iya.” “Apakah bekas lukanya bisa sembuh?” “Kurasa tidak.” Memang malam bisa membuatmu rentan dan membiarkanmu mengatakan sesuatu yang tidak akan pernah kamu akui saat terang. Kegelapan melunakkan hatimu. “Sayang sekali. Kamu memiliki jiwa yang hangat.” Iris mengerutkan keningnya sedikit. “Aku tidak lagi memiliki jiwa.” Ia telah menjual jiwanya demi kebebasan orang-orangnya. Kini tidak ada yang tersisa darinya. “Ada, kamu punya, tetapi kamu sedang menderita.” Iris berkedip. “Binatang buasmu sedang menderita. Kamu memiliki begitu banyak bekas luka.” “Bekas luka yang aku punya hanya di wajah.” Iris menggelengkan kepalanya dengan lemah. “Aku tidak berbicara tentang wajahmu. Aku berbicara tentang jiwamu. Sayang sekali, kamu sangat menderita… apa yang ayah dan saudaraku lakukan padamu pasti menyakitkan...” Dan setelah itu, Iris menutup matanya dan tertidur. ====================== Dia adalah anak perempuan dari seorang alfa yang telah membunuh keluarganya, membakar kawanan dan juga menjadikan orang-orangnya sebagai budak. Kini, setelah sepuluh tahun diperlakukan sebagai budak, ia berhasil membalas dendam dan menjalani kehidupan yang tak pernah dibayangkan siapapun. Kehidupan mirip neraka. Dan sepuluh tahun kemudian, Alpha Cane berhasil mengambil alih dan membunuh alfa yang telah membuat kehidupan orang-orangnya lebih buruk dari kematian. Saatnya bagi dia untuk membuat anak-anak alfa tersebut membayar untuk apa yang telah ayah mereka perbuat. Hanya saja… Iris adalah anak yang lemah dan dia sangat berbeda dari ayahnya. ```
i_want_to_sleep · 9.8K Views

Interstellar Dream Maker

In the distant and mysterious interstellar world, ancient civilizations have faded like a dying candle in the wind, with shattered ruins and lost traditions lingering only in vague historical records. In this era, Dream Forgers, with their powerful mental abilities, construct dreams and engage in fierce battles with dream beasts, becoming revered figures. They are the spiritual backbone of the interstellar world, weaving dreams that connect people to the distant echoes of past civilizations. Lily, a graduate student in dream studies from Earth, found her fate dramatically altered in an unexpected twist. She was transported into the world of an interstellar romance novel, only to become the tragic side character. Despite possessing mental power, her lack of imagination became her fatal flaw in her quest to become a Dream Forger. During the Dream Forger assessment battle, other competitors showcased incredible creativity, with dreams filled with dazzling starlight and wild beasts galloping through fantastical landscapes. However, Lily could only struggle within the confines of her own mind, ultimately being eliminated for her inability to craft dreams. But the story did not end there. After her elimination, Lily did not succumb to despair; instead, she awakened in the face of adversity. As the curtain rose on the interstellar dream streaming battle, a legendary journey that would the entire interstellar world began. During the Beast Summoning Exam, while other competitors summoned common interstellar pets to engage in standard battles with dream beasts, Lily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In an instant, a gigantic flying beast appeared out of nowhere, casting a shadow that seemed to cover the entire sky. With its wings spread wide, it looked as though it could tear the universe apart, and with each beat, the winds and clouds shifted. The interstellar audience was left speechless, their gasps of amazement echoing through the air. Lily smiled gently, silently reciting an ancient verse: "The great roc rises with the wind, soaring to ninety thousand miles in a single day." Then, in the vast sea of stars, the mythical creatures Xuanwu and Tengshe emerged, their massive forms churning the waters as if telling the tales of ancient myths. Amidst the swirling clouds, the Azure Dragon weaved through them, sometimes summoning rain and clouds, nourishing the mysterious dream world. And upon an ancient phoenix tree, a phoenix sang loudly, surrounded by fierce flames, its rebirth through fire a magnificent sight that left all who watched in awe. The interstellar people had never witnessed such a strange and culturally rich dreamscape. For a moment, the entire interstellar network erupted in a frenzy of excitement.
maomao411 · 7K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

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
man_of_culture3030 · 699.4K Views
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