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Bizarro Action Figure

SABERS: Shadows of Ravena

SABER-1 is more than a soldier—he is an enduring symbol of humanity’s resilience and adaptability in the face of extinction. A lone figure forged in the crucible of relentless warfare, his existence straddles the line between man and machine, embodying both the potential and the peril of humanity's technological evolution. His hulking frame, adorned armor marred by countless battles, evokes awe and fear in equal measure. Each stride speaks of purpose, each strike of unyielding power. Yet, beneath the reinforced plating and glowing visor lies the ghost of a man, burdened by the weight of his mission and the impossible expectations placed upon him. His silence is deafening, his actions louder than words. Every battlefield he walks becomes a testament to his efficiency, every engagement a symphony of destruction orchestrated by a mind trained to endure and overcome. SABER-1’s story is one of paradox. He is humanity’s greatest savior and its most chilling reminder of what desperation can create. His towering presence inspires hope in the hearts of those he protects, even as the brutality of his methods casts shadows over their admiration. The emblem on his chest—a sword piercing a shield, flanked by wings—serves as a beacon of his purpose: to defend, to adapt, and to ensure survival at any cost. But with each victory, a haunting question lingers: where does the man end, and the machine begin? As the lines blur, SABER-1 becomes an enigma—a figure of unparalleled strength and relentless determination, whose actions echo far beyond the battlefield, forcing humanity to reckon with what it means to survive and what it means to be human. SABER-1 is not just a soldier; he is a reflection of the choices made in the face of annihilation and the sacrifices required to carry the weight of hope.
Batman117 · 3.3K Views

SHADOWS OF ELDRALORE

Emmie’s heart pounded as the figure rose from the shadows, thicker and grayer than before—a far more earthbound and sinister version of the one he thought he’d conquered. The sparkling light from the crystals above seemed to be sucked away, leaving a suffocating emptiness. Even the sound of his friends’ breaths around him grew faint, their voices—one of concern, another of reassurance—muffled echoes through the cavern behind him. Yet he knew he had to press forward, deeper into the darkness, and face this alone. For now. The figure stepped closer, slow and deliberate, its glowing eyes radiating an icy malevolence. “You think you’ve overcome your fears?” it hissed, its voice sharp and grating. “That was nothing. I am the fog inside you—the one you ignore, the one that carves at you.” Emmie swallowed hard, forcing himself upright despite the shaking in his legs. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said, summoning courage he didn’t fully feel. “I’ve come too far to turn back.” The figure’s laughter crawled down his spine. “Brave, so brave… but so foolish. You’ve barely begun to uncover the truths buried in your soul. Your doubts, your regrets, your anger—they feed me.” For a moment, Emmie faltered. The words clawed at wounds he’d tried to ignore, stirring his doubts: Could he truly protect his friends? Were his choices enough? The darkness seemed to press closer, suffocating him with its weight. But then he remembered Mira’s voice, full of faith. He thought of Amara’s bright laughter and Cory’s unwavering support. They had believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself. “Maybe I do doubt,” Emmie admitted, meeting the figure’s glowing gaze. “But those doubts don’t define me. My friends believe in me, and I believe in myself.” The figure’s eyes narrowed, frustration flickering within. “Conviction alone won’t save you,” it hissed. “Your friends are far, and here, it’s just you and me.” It raised its arm, and the shadows coiled into smoky tendrils, striking toward him. Emmie dodged just in time as they slammed into the ground, shattering the stone and sending shards flying. His heart raced, his footing unsteady, but he pushed himself upright. A faint light flickered in his hand—small but wholly his. The figure laughed, mocking him. “Is that all? A tiny flicker? Pathetic.” Emmie clenched his jaw. “It’s enough,” he said. “This light is everything I fought for, everything I believe in.” The figure snarled, and the darkness surged again, crashing against Emmie’s light. Straining against the tide, he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He thought of his friends, their unwavering faith, and his purpose. The light steadied, burning brighter. At that moment, he heard their voices—Mira, Amara, and Cory—calling to him. The sound reignited his resolve. As their light joined his, the shadow recoiled, its form shattering under their combined strength. The figure’s voice echoed as it faded: “This isn’t over, Emmie. This is just the beginning.” Emmie stood firm, unwavering. “I’ll be ready. Let’s finish this.”
Mira_Tenny · 2.7K Views

Revenge of the Crimson Shadow

Eternal Cleansing Region, somewhere in the Aries Kingdom, midnight “Ohmmm~~~!” The sound of chanting was heard as pebbles jumped, buildings vibrated, and the ground shook. In a huge church, many figures in dark red robes were on their knees surrounding an altar, seemingly praying to a god. There were thousands upon thousands of figures, all chanting the same thing. The gargantuan church had very tall windows, with which housed stained glass. The church was very caliginous, only having the soft light of the moon to illuminate things through those windows. If one gazed up, a mural could be discerned within a cupola. It illustrated a devil lingering above the land, with which figures with red eyes stood; then, a huge sun encroaching upon the territory of that devil, and burning all that was. Afterward, the mural showed a few survivors, on their knees, worshiping what appeared to be a god floating in the air as the surrounding lands burned to ash. The robed figures surrounded an altar upon which stood an imposing golden statue of a muscular man, in nothing but a toga, holding out his hand. In his hand, burned a powerful flame. If one were to observe this statue, they would immediately notice the beautiful orange sapphire the size of one’s hand. This statue was six stories tall, reaching just below the cupola. “Ohmmm~~~!” everything shook once again due to the sheer power of those figures’ unified voices. All of the figures began to glow a soft reddish-orange holy light, reminiscent of the sun. The light began to get brighter, gradually overtaking the gentle light of the moon. On the altar, in the center, directly below the cupola, was another silhouette. This silhouette stood with its hands held out, radiating an even greater light than those below. “Ohmmm~~~!” the statue’s eyes began to shine a similar light. Moments later, the light from the robed figures began to wane, as if the statue was absorbing it. The silhouette below the statue, however, started glowing even brighter. Seconds passed. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes, into hours. As every second ticked by, robed figures collapsed one after the other, their state unknown. The statue’s eyes were getting brighter as each fell. After seemingly an eternity, the silhouette’s light began to flicker out of existence. Just before it blinked out of the world, the statue’s eyes flared up, and the world seemingly stopped. The silhouette’s eyes began to match those of the statue. Suddenly, a deep, monotone voice escaped from the shadowy figure, “The boy with the Shadow Dragon Bloodline. Find him. Kill him. Wipe his whole lineage from the face of this region!” it boomed throughout the church, escaping through the walls as if they were illusory. People all throughout the region began to look in the direction of the church in response to some profound power. As the figure on the altar was speaking, cracks ,glowing the same color as the statue, began to appear around its body. As soon as the silhouette stopped speaking, it collapsed and the statue’s radiant glow began to fade. “Ohmmm~~~!” echoed out once more.
TheScaredOne · 6.7K Views

Slay Thy Conqueror

Throughout history, certain individuals have left an indelible mark on the world they lived in. These figures rose above the chaos of their times, leaving behind legacies that shaped kingdoms and empires, some rising to greatness, while others crumbled into obscurity. In every era, there are those whose influence is undeniable—some revered, others feared. The title of Conqueror is reserved for those who wield unstoppable power—figures of absolute dominance who are both admired and dreaded. A conqueror’s name echoes through history, forever etched as a force that could bend nations to their will. In a world where mystic power came from nature, where people harness this nature into tools of calligraphy, arts, poetry, music and others as a form of powers—holding the key to possible and creative powers, the Ming Dynasty is on the brink of looming disaster as it ignored the threat of a conqueror. Amidst a turbulent era of war and political chaos, the emperor and his court ignore a dire warning of a rising conqueror, too consumed with internal strife and external threats to take action. The second prince, determined to perform in the stage of the Ming Dynasty, takes the conqueror matters into his own hands. With the possibility of the crown’s future at stake, having the emperor being ill, he forms an unlikely alliance of criminals from the royal prison, as last effort, offering them a chance at freedom in exchange for one final mission: to kill thy conqueror.
PurpleGrimmy · 1.8K Views
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