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Batman Joke Time

Isekai Customer Service Is A Joke!

Like any 18 year old high school student, Kim Ji-Hye was just busy struggling with expectations and exams. The biggest worries? Overbearing parents and college entrance exams. That, of course, was the case until she accidentally found herself in an unexpected circumstance that led straight into the glowing gates of death! One moment, she was zoning out on an empty school corridor. The next? She was smack in the middle of a field that was way too over dramatic with the moon lighting up the surrounding and to add to it all, questioning all her life decisions. “What the hell? Where the HELL AM I?" Before she managed to figure out whether she had been taken hostage, sedated, or was indeed deceased, the reality had another surprise in store for her. The field evaporated. She was now in a never-ending white void. “Ah right, that is just brilliant. Another case of teleportation. Is my life really that boring that I actually find this exciting?” “Why do you think so?” a deep, unbothered voice replied. Ji-Hye screamed. Floating, there in front of her was a god that was the epitome of ‘a literal god.’ “WHO ARE YOU?” The God sighed. “Welcome Ji-Hye. I do not really know how you made it here, but… yeah, this is awkward.” Ji-Hye blinked. “Am I dead?” "Is that your final guess?" "Nope." “Then where am I?” "Alternate reality." “And how did I get here?” "Because your universe's God did an ‘oopsie’ and misplaced you." “Excuse me?” Apparently, some celestial treasure named Ezekiel was supposed to keep her safely in her time screwed up so badly that she ended up in a reality she wasn’t even supposed to exist in. THANKS EZEKIEL! "So what now?" Ji-hye asked, still trying to process the fact that divine beings are capable of making stupid mistakes The god who introduced himself in a head-turning fashion as Kashigami sighed once more. “Well, I need to send you back… but the thing is, I have no clue which universe is yours. So it might take some time.” “And how long is ‘some time’?” “Perhaps 500 years.” Ji-hye’s eyes had never been so wide. “WHAT IN THE FU–” And there started the journey which I (the author) could describe in many different ways, but for Ji-hye, it was undoubtedly the most unhinged. ✨ READ NOW TO FIND OUT: ✔ How does Ji-hye handle being an anomaly? ✔ Will Kashigami ever be useful? (Spoiler: Probably not.) ✔ Will she ever return home, or is she stuck in this SPACE WARP forever? 5K VIEWS CELEBRATION! JOIN THE DISCORD SERVER https://discord.gg/9Y2KUg3e code is "Ji-hye"
kappe · 10.9K Views

Splinters of Time

In the coastal town of **Sarween**, where the waves of the sea collide with the curse of suspended time, a legend unfolds about a man imprisoned in an endless loop of guilt and oblivion. Adham, the writer who turned his heart into a ledger of lies and ghosts, battles the demons of his memory through **stone towers** that rise from the belly of the sea like divine punishment. Here, where events are born from the womb of pain, **Yara** transforms from a lost daughter into a cosmic enigma: a child who vanishes on a crimson night, only to return as mathematical ciphers that pierce the fabric of reality. Her letters are not cries for help, but calls from parallel worlds mocking humanity’s attempts to grasp time. The **twenty towers**, numbered with the blood of victims, are not mere stone—they are open books bleeding with the wounds of a past rewriting itself. Each tower is a mirror reflecting Adham’s fractured selves: a terrified child, a guilty youth, a weary old man. The **scar above the heart** is but a fiery seal reminding him that the truth is a beast fiercer than any fiction. In this world, time is a poisoned loop: the sea spits out corpses bearing identical DNA, the **white shark** devours the dreams of the past, and shattered mirrors forge parallel universes where Yara does not die… but morphs into an idea haunting her creator. This tale is not a narrative, but a morbid dance between creator and creation. Adham, who believed writing would redeem him, discovers he authored his own prison with his hands: every sentence carved a scar, every chapter lit a candle in the darkness of his conscience. This novel is not about lost time, but about a being who builds his cage from falsified memories and battles mirrors reflecting his image as a crownless executioner. Here, in Sarween, the truth is not a victim… but a killer cloaked in martyrdom. Thus unfolds the legend of **Shards of Time**: like Narcissus gazing at his reflection in the river of memory, drinking from it until death. But here, the river is a sea that regurgitates the names of victims every night, and the mirrors do not reflect faces… they devour them.
Muntadher_Khudhur · 665 Views
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