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Izuku Transmutation Quirk

The Alchemist’s Son

Damian Thorne, a 25-year-old struggling artist, leads an ordinary life in a bustling city—until the day he receives a mysterious letter from a long-forgotten relative. His estranged grandfather, a reclusive alchemist, has passed away, leaving Damian his secluded estate in the countryside. Intrigued, and with little to lose, Damian decides to visit the property, only to discover that his grandfather’s legacy is far more complex than he imagined. At the heart of the mansion is an ancient, hidden laboratory filled with cryptic notes and strange, alchemical equipment. Damian quickly learns that his grandfather was part of a secretive alchemical order dedicated to uncovering the Philosopher's Stone. His grandfather had been on the verge of a breakthrough—one that involved transmutation of not just metal, but reality itself. As Damian delves deeper into his grandfather's research, he starts experiencing strange occurrences. Time warps. Shadows move on their own. Old enemies of the order resurface, determined to seize the secrets Damian has inherited. To protect his life and the legacy of his family, Damian must master the forbidden knowledge of alchemy before it consumes him. In a race against time and enemies both seen and unseen, Damian discovers that the true power of alchemy is not in transmuting gold—but in unlocking the secrets of life, death, and the universe itself. However, every step he takes closer to mastering alchemy brings him closer to a dangerous truth: that some knowledge was never meant to be found.
DaoistArHism · 11.7K Views

Transmuted : Love of an Evening

[ Lynn, Sam and Mahone ] I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history class once said that I had perfect lips. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them, too. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My lips. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Samlin Greenham." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Sammy," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Lynn. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my lip to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.
Faria_Samira · 35.2K Views
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