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Karumbu Juice Machine Low Price

Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Rex was just another slave in the corporate machine, a faceless office worker under the shadow of one of the galaxy's powerful megacorps. His life was predictable and dull, an endless cycle of meaningless reports and fluorescent-lit monotony. That was, until that day.... When a new world was discovered on the outskirts of the galaxy, Rex, like countless other low-ranking employees, found himself dragged into a contract clause he’d barely skimmed years ago. The megacorp ordered him and his coworkers to pack their lives into a transport pod and leave for the unexplored planet. Their mission? Establish a colony. Mine resources. Make the company richer. There was no choice, refusing meant ruin. At first, everything seemed manageable. The days were grueling, the nights cold, but progress was steady. The colony was coming to life. Until the excavation team struck something. No one knew what it was at first, a buried hive, a forgotten ecosystem, or something ancient and dangerous. Whatever it was, it unleashed hell. Swarms of enormous, chittering creatures erupted from the ground, their jagged bodies blotting out the sky. The colony fell into chaos. Screams echoed through the air as the bugs tore through everything in their path, walls, machines, and people. Rex barely survived. Bloodied, broken, and pinned beneath the rubble, he should have died there. But in the pitch-black silence of his fading consciousness, a voice spoke to him. Cold. Mechanical. Otherworldly. "Do you wish to live?" When Rex woke, he was no longer the man he’d been. His body was no longer human flesh and bone but something far more alien. His skin shimmered with living metal, his mind infused with the power of Cleo, a mysterious AI from a long-extinct, robotic race known as the Kaelzars. Cleo’s presence pulsed through his thoughts, guiding him and transforming him. He wasn’t just alive. He was reborn. But survival came at a price. Rex was no longer a pawn of the megacorp; he was something more dangerous, something they couldn’t control. As Cleo’s intentions began to reveal themselves, Rex found himself standing on the precipice of war, not just with the bugs but with forces far greater than he could have imagined. This was the beginning of a journey through blood-soaked battlefields and treacherous alliances. Along the way, Rex would encounter allies, brilliant, flawed, and unpredictable, and enemies whose ambitions were as sharp as their blades. These weren’t disposable foes, easily crushed by an overpowered hero. They were cunning, relentless, and human in the most terrifying ways. But then again, in war, who can truly be called a villain? New chapters every day at: [2 A.M GMT+8 Time!]
Shazorwy · 477K Views

The Price Of Salvation

In the quiet town of Eldridge, where stories of old lingered like rain on dry earth, lived a boy named Nathaniel. At just twenty years old, he was not an ordinary teenager; he had a deep curiosity about the unseen world—the spirits and energies that lay just beyond what we can see. Many nights, he would lie under the stars, thinking about life’s mysteries, the ideas of good and evil, and the balance between light and dark. One evening, as night fell over Eldridge, Nathaniel wandered into the woods that bordered his town. The trees stood tall and ancient, their twisted branches reaching for the sky. He often found peace in this natural space, where the rustling leaves shared secrets and the cool breeze took away his worries. But on this night, a strange energy filled the air—a tension that made him uneasy. As he walked deeper into the forest, Nathaniel came upon a clearing glowing with an eerie light. In the center stood a figure wrapped in shadows, its shape shifting like smoke. The air buzzed with energy, and Nathaniel’s heart raced with fear and curiosity. He had read about spirits that could grant wishes or give power at a price but never thought he would meet one. "Welcome, young seeker," the figure said in a soft voice that slipped into Nathaniel's mind. "I am Zareth, a being tied to realms beyond your understanding. I have watched you closely, sensing your desire for knowledge and power." Nathaniel stood still, captivated by the figure's presence. "What do you want from me?" he asked softly. Zareth laughed, a sound both charming and chilling. "I offer you a pact—a deal that will give you great power for seventy years. You can shape your future, command forces beyond your dreams, and influence those around you. In return, when the time comes, I will claim what is mine: your body and soul." The weight of Zareth's words pressed down on Nathaniel. The thought of having power was thrilling; he pictured himself as someone important—a hero or even a ruler. But deep inside, doubt crept in. Could he trust this shadowy figure? What did it mean to trade his soul for power? Sensing his hesitation, Zareth leaned closer, his form swirling around Nathaniel. "You want knowledge, don’t you? You wish to understand the world? With my gift, you will unlock secrets hidden from mortal eyes. You will be admired and feared." The promise stirred something within Nathaniel—a tempting call that echoed in his heart. He imagined standing tall, commanding storms and bending fate to his will. The fear of losing himself felt distant compared to the excitement of potential. With a mix of fear and excitement, Nathaniel reached out to Zareth. "I accept your offer," he said, sealing his fate with those words. As their hands touched, an electric shock ran through Nathaniel’s body, igniting every nerve with raw energy. A dark symbol appeared on his palm—a mark binding him to Zareth’s will. In that moment, Nathaniel gained power but also became vulnerable; he had traded his future for fleeting desires.
Doctor_Bhupendra_9 · 1.2K Views

Reincarnated Supreme Arcane Emperor's Machinations

“Eat shit!” Those were the last two words I shouted before creating the largest supernova and targeting the unknown enemies that called themselves The Order. Everyone was affected, me included. In the end, I, Emperor Vance, died using my own hands. I thought this was it. The Darkness that enveloped me is known as death. That changed when my gaze fell on the pulsating light that joined my presence in the expanse of darkness. It was Arcane; the accumulation of my learnings, the system of magic I built, and the sole owner of the mysterious power was with me in death. ‘Arcane’ enveloped itself to me, becoming the sole radiating light in the dark world. “How long has it been?” However, that single memory I had remaining in this ‘world’ seems to be becoming the only recollection I have left. I’ve become lost in time, drowning myself in the darkness. The only thought that crossed my mind was enduring yet another day in the same situation. Whoosh—! Not until it looked like I was being sucked outside of this nothingness. ‘What the fuck!’ For some strange reason, I felt tears fall down my cheeks, and I had no control over them. “Uwah!” In the first place, why am I crying? ‘And how is it possible to feel someone carrying my back?’ Amidst a series of strange occurrences, four simple words instantly made me realize exactly what was happening. “Congratulations! It’s a boy!” I’ve been reincarnated back into my own world.
Ordki_Hozei · 7K Views

TPV: The Price of Zero

"If a man is never born, is he dead? If a thing is never seen, does it exist? If a name is never spoken, does it carry meaning?" I do not ask these questions to be answered. I ask them because no one dares to. The universe is built on the arrogance of definition. Numbers, laws, identities—shackles that are forged in language, in memory, in time, or this theory that lingers in our brains called collective consciousness. But what of the spaces between? The void? Reality? The things that exist outside knowing, outside the gaze of men and gods? Or does it not exist at all? If so, how are we speaking about it? Paradoxical isn’t it? He was such a thing. A presence without a name. A shadow cast by nothing. Or nothing cast by a shadow? If history is a river, he was the drought. If men are measured by the weight of their deeds, he was the absence of gravity itself. He did not belong, not in this world, not in any world, because he was not of the world. Not forgotten. Not ignored. Not erased. Simply… he never counted. And yet, in the nothing, he saw everything. The weight of unspoken thoughts. The blood behind unshed tears. The truth in silence. The universe was full of things unseen, of wounds never given words, of horrors never given shape. And he understood. He understood that nothingness was not the absence of being, but the absence of limitation. He understood that a thing untethered by perception is a thing without chains. He understood that the moment a man asks, "What is the shape of nothing?"— —he has already begun to see it. The idea of liminalism or being liminal. He experienced it and it drove him not to insanity, but sent him spiraling into the depth of the abyssal word of all what it carried of meaning, something much much beyond than mere insanity, something that can not described with words, because it is not a reality, it is something simply…...beyond. Saying he was insane would be an understatement, mind you. And once seen, it can never be unseen. The world had built itself on the assumption that zero was empty. That nothing had no weight. That absence held no consequence. But they were wrong. Zero was the abyss between all things. The wound that preceded creation. The foundation of every lie called "truth." And the price of zero… was everything. As such, because he lost everything, He gained everything. 1 extra chapter = 2 powerstones
ItismeIndeedsoObey · 616 Views
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