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The Mandalorian Forge

The Last Stand: The Fool and the Regressor

The apocalypse is here, and it’s so overdone. Monsters? Check. Burning sky? Check. Random system that gives you powers but also wants your firstborn? Double check. In the middle of this mess are two guys who couldn’t be more mismatched if they tried: The Fool: A guy who’s spent his life perfecting the art of doing nothing. His resume includes “professional procrastinator”, “class clown”, “expert nap taker”, etc... Now he’s got to survive an apocalypse that didn’t even give him a heads-up. How rude. The Regressor: A guy who’s lived through the end of the world more times than he can count. Literally. Because he forgot. Now he’s just a brooding mess with a leather jacket and zero useful advice. When the fool realizes his classmate is a regressor, he’s like, “Great. I’m stuck with the guy who’s seen it all but remembers none of it. This’ll go well.” Yet, they will still group up and face trials that test their sanity more than their skills. But as the so-called End demands more blood and the regressor’s memories start to resurface, they realize the real apocalypse might be their inability to agree on where to hide. Fool: "Let’s hide in the basement!" Regressor: "Basements are death traps. We should go to the roof." Fool: "Roofs are for dramatic exits. I’m not dying for aesthetics!" Anyway, can a lazy dreamer and an amnesiac hero save the world? Probably not. But hey, at least they’ll have a good story to tell—if they survive. ________ __ Please note that this story is a work of fiction and a product of the author's imagination. It contains scenes of violence, death, and may not be suitable for all readers. It is intended for mature audiences only.
Peace_in_Chaos · 11.6K Views

The Outcast: The Shadow of The Wall

"As the Supreme Commander of The Wall, my duty is clear: to hold back the threats from the south—mutant monsters, ogres, cyclops, or... hopefully not... the return of the orcs. The kings and lords of Middle Earth do not care. To them, we are just a bunch of 'Outcasts,' exiled criminals and soldiers pushed to the margins. That’s fine. It's better if they stay out of our way. Corrupt politicians rarely care about real security." He looks down at the Outcast barracks below, where the central headquarters commands the entire Wall, separating the south from the main continent. Wisps of smoke rise from the kitchens, carrying the scent of salty, stale soup. The Outcasts atone for their sins or suppress their grief through dangerous missions in exchange for a few gold coins, following the rigorous standards set long ago. Such is life at The Wall. "I, Oldman, am not a religious man. But I interpret the legacy of past eras as a reminder: The world has never truly been at peace. The evil forces of all ages—fragments, orcs, or dragons—will always lurk. Humans, dwarves, elves, whoever they may be, could end up killing each other, driven by cunning deceit. And now, the only barrier holding back the southern threat is The Wall... and us, the Outcasts. Perhaps history will remember us as nameless heroes, or perhaps it will forget us. But as long as I stand here, I will not allow the monsters from the south and other darknesses to spread across the continent again." "I am Oldman... In a world that has cast us out, we stand amidst the darkness. We have no land, no name, only this path. We are the shadows behind this wall. We are the forgotten guardians of the world. We are the Outcasts, and we will endure, or die on our path."
azvein · 1.5K Views

Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. "Where are we?" "What happened?" "I thought I died!" Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room. As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. "I remember... I was stabbed..." ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. "I... I died in a plane crash," muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor. Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last. "I got shot... I remember it vividly," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. "So how am I still here?" The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories. With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. "This... this seems familiar," he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings. As the words "pairs, pairs, pairs" echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. "It can't be... don't tell me..." he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions. Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting. "I never expected anyone to notice me," the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. "I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?" Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. "Eh... Ethan Rivers," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia. "Greetings, lost souls," Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. "I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life." As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, "This it bad, really bad."
Dark_Eyez · 1M Views
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