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Chris Evans In Pulp

Sign-In System in Modern Earth

Failed student no more! When the mysterious Ascendancy Orb chose Malik Abdullahi on his dreary walk home from secondary school, his humdrum life in Berbera shattered. Integrating with him, it gifted him the "Sign-in System" – a cryptic AI that rewards discretion, strategic growth, and daily dedication with mind-sharpening abilities and more. Suddenly, acing exams and securing a coveted spot at university is just the beginning. Witness Malik's silent revolution as he leverages the system's power to not only transform himself but also to secretly reshape his surroundings. From a struggling teen to a shadowy force manipulating economics and technology, his journey is one of hidden power and reluctant leadership. But this is just the first arc in a grand cosmic tapestry. Prepare for a tale that transcends galaxies, where a discreet climb from the Horn of Africa leads to a galactic harem forged through political alliances, a post-human evolution of mankind orchestrated from the shadows, and a destiny that culminates in cosmic godhood. Malik isn't a hero; he's the unseen hand guiding humanity's ascent, a master strategist playing a game where the board is the universe itself. Get ready for a unique blend of system sci-fi, nation-building intrigue, and cosmic ambition, where the stakes escalate from a single life to the fate of realities. DISCLAIMER This novel is a work of fiction. While some locations, organizations, or institutions may bear resemblance to real-world counterparts, their depiction in this narrative—including associated events, actions, and outcomes—is entirely imaginary and not intended to reflect reality. All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The views and actions expressed by characters belong solely to them and do not represent the author’s opinions or real-world ideologies. The author explicitly disavows any use of this work as a reference for factual, legal, or historical purposes. Readers are strongly cautioned against interpreting fictional scenarios as commentary on real individuals, groups, or events.
The_Standing_Tower · 32.8K Views

Lost in flames Found in dark

"Lost in Flames, Found in Dark" Some love stories don’t begin with hello. They begin after the end. She was once the light in someone’s storm — wild, warm, unforgettable. Then, in a single moment, Shruti vanished. No note. No clues. Only a silence that shattered the hearts left behind. He searched for her like a man possessed. Burned down every lie, bled for every truth — until all that remained was rage... and a love too deep to bury. Years passed. And somewhere far from the wreckage of the life she once knew, a girl opened her eyes in a hospital bed. Her name was different. Her reflection — unfamiliar. But the ache in her soul? The flashes of another life? All too real. A scar she doesn’t remember getting. A voice she still hears in her dreams. And eyes — cold, broken, beautiful — that feel like home. He doesn't know her. Not anymore. But something in him stirs when she’s near. A storm. A memory. A promise not yet fulfilled. As their worlds collide once more, past and present bleed into one. The girl who shouldn't exist remembers a life no one believes. And the boy who lost everything now stands at the edge of rediscovery… and ruin. This isn’t just a second chance. It’s fate demanding what death tried to steal. Love. Longing. Pain. Fire. And a mystery that binds their souls beyond lifetimes. Because some hearts never stop searching. Some memories refuse to fade. And some love stories are written in scars. --- SNEAK PEEK The night air was sharper than she'd expected, and the thin fabric of her top did nothing to help—but she’d already refused his jacket with full drama ten minutes ago. Pride came before comfort, apparently. From the couch behind her, Dhruv watched in silence. Head slightly tilted, fingers resting near his lips. He didn’t comment. Yet. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she muttered. “A little,” he admitted. She rolled her eyes, still facing the balcony. “This is where a gentleman offers warmth. Maybe a hot drink. Or, you know... human decency.” “You rejected the jacket and the blanket. Can’t save you from yourself.” She opened her mouth to sass back, “Unbelievable.” Before she could finish being annoyed, she felt him. He was behind her—close. His body heat rolled into her back like a slow, deliberate wave. She gasped softly, more out of surprise than cold. His hands slid into hers with quiet certainty, wrapping them up gently. Then, his arms circled around her waist, pulling her lightly against him. Her breath caught as his chest pressed warmly against her back, the thin fabric of her top doing nothing to shield her from the way his warmth spread over her skin. “Dhruv!” she gasped, her voice half protest, half flustered mess. Her words scrambled as he leaned a little closer, breath grazing the side of her neck. “Better?” he asked, low and completely unaffected.
Abishaa · 14.7K Views

Apocalypse Divine

In the bleak land of Sword Skeleton, fate and curse collide in a deadly battle between gods and demons. Lala, the "Bearer of the Sword," is an unknown hero carrying countless legendary swords within her. Once unstoppable, she now wields only a broken black magic sword, "Storm," lodged in her enemy's chest. Behind her looms the curse of the Black Swan—a hatred fueled by fallen magical princesses. It eats away at her soul but grants her power to challenge even gods. Her opponent? Varak, the ancient Demon King ruling from a throne made of a two-headed dragon skeleton. He calls himself the King of True Knowledge. The fight begins with a twist: Lala wounds the supposedly invincible Varak. The truth emerges—her sword holds a "divine-slaying aura" from an unnamed being who once challenged the Creator. As Lala summons thousands of swords at the cost of her life force, Varak counters with demonic chants and holy light, shattering her attack. The Black Swan curse becomes her final shield but deepens her despair. This battle was destined; she’s both pawn and breaker of this stalemate. As Varak weakens, whispers of the underworld emerge. Shadows like Lucifer, the death god of Styx, and freedom-seeking Belfinger watch silently, hinting at Varak's true plan. She isn’t just a revived Demon King—she seeks to use Lala’s Black Swan curse as a key to open the "Primordial Underworld." In her final moments, fragmented memories flash before Lala: burning souls, erased names, and a vision of herself facing Varak at time’s end. This war has no winner. Beneath dazzling clashes of swords and spells lies a millennia-old game played by gods and demons. When hope fades, Lala will realize: heroes are mere pawns in divine games—unless she embraces madness beyond any demon’s and uses the spirits trapped in the tomb of a thousand swords to sever the eternal chains binding true knowledge’s throne.
Yuna_Evans · 346 Views

CONSULT RAPID DIGITAL RECOVERY: TO HIRE A BITCOIN HACKER RECOVERY

The day my house turned against me started like any other lights flashing at my command, blinds snapping shut with military precision, and my coffee machine chirping a cheerful "Good morning!" as if it hadn't just witnessed me going broke. Here I was, a self-styled tech evangelist, huddled on the floor of my "smart" house, staring at an empty screen where my Bitcoin wallet once sat. My sin? Hubris. My penalty? Accidentally nuking my private keys while upgrading a custom node server, believing I could outsmart the pros. The result? A $425,000 crater where my crypto nest egg once grew, and a smart fridge that now beeped condescendingly every time I opened its doors. Panic fell like a rogue AI. I pleaded with tech-savvy friends, who responded with a mix of pity and "You did what?! " I scrolled through forums until my eyes were streaming, trawling through threads filled with such mouthfuls as "irreversible blockchain entropy" and "cryptographic oblivion." I even begged my fridge's voice assistant to turn back the chaos, half-expecting it to sneer and respond, "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes." A Reddit thread buried deep under doom scrolls and memes was how desperation finally revealed to me Rapid Digital Recovery, a single mention of gratitude to the software that recovered lost crypto like digital paramedics.". In despair, but without options, I called them. Their people replied with no judgment, but clinical immediacy, such as a hospital emergency room surgeons might exercise. Within a few hours, their engineers questioned my encrypted system logs a labyrinth of destroyed scripts and torn files like conservators rebuilding a fractured relic. They reverse-engineered my abortive update, tracking digital crumbs across layers of encryption. I imagined them huddled over glowing screens, fueled by coffee and obscurity of purpose, playing my catastrophe as a high-stakes video game. Twelve days went by, and an email arrived: "We've found your keys." My fingers trembled as I logged in. There it was my Bitcoin, resurrected from the depths, shining on the screen like a digital phoenix. I half-expect my smart lights to blink in gratitude. Rapid Digital Recovery not only returned my money; they restored my faith in human ingenuity against cold, uncaring computer programming. Their people combined cutting-edge forensics with good-old-fashioned persistence, refusing to make my mistake a permanent one. Today, my smart home remains filled with automation, but I've shut down its voice activation. My fridge? It's again chilling my beer silently judging me as I walk by. If you ever find yourself in a war of minds with your own machines, believe in the Rapid Digital Recovery. They'll outsmart the machines for you so you won't have to. Just perhaps unplug the coffee maker beforehand. Contact Info Below: Whatsapp: +1 4 14 80 71 4 85 Email: rapid digital recovery (@) execs. com Telegram: h t t p s: // t. me / Rapiddigitalrecovery1
Evans_Sorensen · 884 Views
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