OnAHiatus

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX — MARK

The sky above Brockton Bay split open with a terrible brilliance, a blinding crack of white fire. The heavens themselves seemed to shudder under the descending weight of something vast and wrong—something apocalyptic. A thousand voices screamed without sound. A thousand futures twisted into something unrecognizable.

The Simurgh was here.

Mark should have been afraid. The whole city should have been gripped by the same suffocating terror that had marked every one of her appearanc...

SLIME HERO

The scream was raw. Desperate.

Taylor surged forward, stretching her gelatinous form across the ruined street as she followed the sound. Her swarm scattered ahead, sweeping through dark alleys and collapsed buildings, searching for the source of the disturbance. The moment she found it, she nearly recoiled.

A scavenger—a man barely more than skin and bones—was pinned against the crumbling wall of a burned-out storefront. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, eyes wide with ter...

CHAPTER SIX: FIRST PATROL

Greg adjusted his hoodie for what had to be the hundredth time, feeling absolutely ridiculous. “This is dumb,” he muttered…

Greg adjusted his hoodie for what had to be the hundredth time, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

"This is dumb," he muttered, staring at his reflection in the cracked mirror of his bedroom. His 'costume'—if you could even call it that—consisted of a black hoodie, dark jeans, a pair of running shoes, a cheap paintball mask he'd spray-painted white, an...

ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

I won’t lie; my plan was to garner enough money from writing fanfics to kickstart my dream of becoming a published author, but that seems increasingly out of reach every day. So, I'm dabbling into other areas like animation to expand my skills and earn more income that way. I've only got a phone, so progress will be slow, but soon, I hope to be able to adapt my work into animation myself.

But that isn't the reason for this post.

This is my first time doing such, so I need guid...

CHAPTER FOUR: THE ATTACK

The night was thick with the scent of burnt wood and scorched earth, the air heavy with lingering heat. The five Case 53s moved in formation, spreading out as they advanced through the ruins of the latest village, their eyes scanning for movement.

Then Hollow felt it. A shift beneath the ground—something unnatural, something moving.

“Contact,” he murmured.

Aegir raised a hand, and the water pooled around them thickened, filling the cracks in the ground. The surface rip...

ANNOUNCEMENT

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

To celebrate this special occasion, why don't you hop down to the shop and get yourself a copy of my original fiction: The Wind Blades—now at a discounted price!!!

Just use this code—4056B—for 50% off. Thanks!!!

By the way, fanfiction scheduled for today will still be posted.

THE RETURN

The ruins of Brockton Bay stretched before her, a corpse of a city, shattered and left to rot.

Taylor lingered at the tree line, her gelatinous form pooled in the underbrush, watching. Buildings slumped like exhausted sentinels, their walls pockmarked with damage and bullet holes. The streets were cracked, littered with debris, the rusted husks of burned-out cars lining the roads like forgotten graves.

Brockton Bay had always been rough. Even before Leviathan, before the Nine, it ...

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE CALCULATOR’S TEST

Taylor knew it was a risk.

Her ribs still ached when she moved too fast, and the bruises from her last encounter had barely started to fade. But a weapons shipment of this scale? She couldn’t ignore it. The Narrows had already become a war zone with Penguin and Black Mask tearing each other apart. If another cache of high-tech arms made it into their hands, more people would die.

So here she was.

The warehouse sat at the edge of Gotham’s industrial district, a hollowed-o...

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND ART

The gallery was quiet, save for the soft echoes of footsteps and the occasional murmur of conversation. Contessa stood in front of a painting, hands folded neatly behind her back, studying the brushstrokes.

Maggie, standing beside her, tilted her head. “What do you think?”

Contessa considered the swirl of colors. “It is… uneven.”

Maggie let out a short laugh. “That’s one way to put it. It’s abstract, hon. It’s not supposed to be literal.”

Contessa f...

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: THE WATCHFUL EYES OF ORACLE

The city never slept.

From his vantage point atop a crumbling rooftop in the Narrows, Nightwing watched the distant neon signs cast a dull glow over the rain-slick asphalt. Gotham had always been a battleground, but the gang war had turned it into something worse. In the chaos, new players were emerging—some were opportunists, eager to carve out their own piece of Gotham’s underworld. Others were vigilantes, trying—and often failing—to stem the tide of violence.

But this o...

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND THE LIBRARY

The library was quiet. Not silent—there was the occasional rustle of pages, the soft hum of overhead lights, the faint clicking of a keyboard—but quiet enough. Contessa stood near the front desk, taking it in.

Maggie, already heading toward the shelves, glanced over her shoulder. “You coming, hon?”

Contessa hesitated, then followed. “I do not require reading material at this time.”

“That’s fine,” Maggie said. “Just thought you might like it here. It’s p...

UPDATES TIMETABLE

MONDAY

• That’s Not A Pet, Taylor
• Limitless

TUESDAY

• The Honored One
• Greg Meets RWBY

WEDNESDAY

• The Next Great Adventure
• Accidental Villainy

THURSDAY

• Professor Uzumaki
• Again And Again And Again…

FRIDAY

• Limitless
• Shatterpoint

SATURDAY

INTERLUDE: CAULDRON TAKES NOTICE

Doctor Mother sat in silence, her expression unreadable as she reviewed the report.

The images on the screen were grainy—satellite feeds and drone footage, distant enough to lack detail but close enough to confirm the essentials. Villages wiped out. Patches of land scorched black. Bodies—some partially melted, others twisted in ways that defied human anatomy.

She tapped a key, bringing up the next set of images. A towering figure stood in the ruin of its latest kill, humanoid ...

CHAPTER THREE: THE GATHERING STORM

The stories spread like wildfire.

A monster in the heart of the continent. A nightmare of flesh and shadow that walked like a man but devoured parahumans like an animal. Villages wiped off the map. Entire generations erased in a single attack.

Survivors—what few there were—spoke in hushed, fearful tones of a towering figure, its form shifting, regenerating, adapting. Some said it was a demon, a punishment sent by their angry ancestors. Others insisted it was a rogue bio-tinker...

A TALE OF TWO STORIES

Should I continue with The “S” Stands For Superman or should I start a new story? It will be moved to my Sunday slot —the full timetable will be available soon.

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND COMPLAINING

The late afternoon sun slanted through the diner windows, stretching long shadows across the booths. The lunch rush had faded, leaving only a handful of customers lingering over coffee refills and half-eaten pie. Contessa wiped down the counter with her usual precision, while Maggie leaned against the register, watching an older man at one of the booths.

He was hunched over his plate, frowning deeply at his food.

“Here we go,” Maggie muttered.

Contessa followed her gaze....

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND SEATING ARRANGEMENTS

The lunch crowd had settled in, filling the diner with the steady hum of conversation and the clatter of silverware against plates. Contessa stood near the entrance, studying the seating arrangements.

A couple occupied the corner booth, sitting side by side instead of across from each other. A man had taken a seat at the counter, despite there being multiple empty booths available. A three had taken a four-person table but left one seat conspicuously unoccupied..

It was inefficien...

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND ICE CREAM

The ice cream parlor was busy, but not overwhelmingly so. Families, teenagers, and the occasional lone customer filled the space, the air thick with the scent of sugar and freshly made waffle cones.

Contessa stood at the counter, observing the menu.

Beside her, Maggie let out a satisfied sigh. “Alright, hon, tell me the truth. You ever had ice cream before?”

“Yes,” Contessa said.

Maggie gave her a look. “Okay, let’s try that again. You ever had ice cream�...

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND PETS

The sidewalk was uneven. Contessa noted this as she walked, her pace unhurried but careful. The cracks in the pavement were a potential tripping hazard. Inefficient.

But this was not new information.

She had finished her shift at the diner an hour ago, yet instead of heading straight home, she chose to walk. It was an experiment. Without the Path, her choices were her own.

She was still… adjusting.

A rustling noise caught her attention. She turned her head slightly,...

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE PRICE OF GOING SOLO

Taylor had expected resistance from the gangs ever since she became a known variable.

She hadn't expected this.

The ambush came without warning.

The alley was a kill box—a narrow corridor of broken concrete and graffiti-tagged brick walls, slick with rain and offering no real cover. She'd taken down three of them already—silent, efficient, before the rest even realized she was there.

But Black Mask's men were learning.

Adapting.

And now she was...

ANNOUNCEMENT

I won’t lie, it’s a bit stressful navigating SpaceBattles’ DM mechanics. So, while I will also use the platform to reach out to you, I can also be contacted via WhatsApp—easier to send documents through it: +447448498468.

INTERLUDE: NIGHTWING

Gotham never changed.

The faces did. The skyline shifted with every disaster, every rebuilding effort, every new crime lord who decided they wanted a piece of it. But Gotham itself? The city had a way of grinding people down, of wearing on you until you either adapted or broke.

Dick Grayson had spent years thinking he’d left it behind. That he’d moved past the shadows of his past, past the man who raised him.

But every time he came back, the city pulled him...

CHAPTER FIVE: HERO OR VILLAIN

Greg winced as he peeled his hoodie away from his side, grimacing at the deep purple bruises forming beneath. That last hit had hurt, even w

Greg winced as he peeled his hoodie away from his side, grimacing at the deep purple bruises forming beneath. That last hit had hurt, even with his Aura softening the blow, and it smarted every time he breathed too deep. His legs also felt like lead, sore from the fight. But his mind was what hurt the most.

The fact that he...

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND SMALL TALK (PART TWO)

The bell above the diner door jingled as a customer stepped inside, bringing a brief gust of cool evening air with him. Contessa noted his entrance, cataloging the way he hesitated before choosing a stool at the counter.

A few minutes later, Maggie, leaning against the register, gave her a sly look. “Alright, hon, pop quiz.”

Contessa straightened slightly. “I am prepared.”

Maggie smirked and nodded toward the counter, where the man from earlier sat idly stirring his ...

CHAPTER TWENTY: THREADS CONVERGE

The Narrows was unusually quiet tonight, a fragile peace settling over the streets after weeks of violence. But Taylor knew better than to trust the calm. Beneath the surface, Gotham simmered like a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding.

She sat hunched over in the dim light of her room, fingers ghosting over the scattered papers and notes she had spent weeks gathering. Strings of connections stretched in her mind, threading through whispers on the street, stolen documents, intercep...

CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE BAT’S SHADOW

The rooftops of Gotham were unforgiving. The wind cut through the city with a bite that even her layered clothing couldn’t keep out. Crouched atop the rusted remains of a fire escape, Taylor locked her gaze on the warehouse below. Another one of Penguin’s supply hubs—one of the many she’d been keeping tabs on since confirming that the Calculator’s tech was in play.

She had spent most of the night watching from the shadows, waiting for the right moment to move.

That momen...

ADAPTATION

Taylor’s form shifted seamlessly over the uneven terrain, her gelatinous body adapting to every dip and rise without effort. The outpost had given her direction—Brockton Bay was still there, still struggling, and her team was still fighting. But she wasn’t ready to face them. Not yet.

She needed to be stronger.

Her evolution had continued without pause. The fight with the monstrous wolf had opened new doors, and her relentless experimentation had pushed those doors wide open...

CHAPTER FOUR: FIRST FIGHT

Greg's breath came in ragged gasps as the gang members circled him, the overgrown field behind Winslow stretching wide and empty. His ribs throbbed from the last hit, his legs shaky with exhaustion.

Not exactly how he'd imagined his first fight as a parahuman.

"You're doing great!" Ruby's voice chirped in his head as he barely avoided a wild swing. "Kinda. I mean, you're still standing, so that's a win!"

"We're grading on a very generous curve," Weiss muttered. 2025-02-06 04:45:14 +0000 UTC View Post

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND COMPLAINING

The late afternoon sun slanted through the diner windows, stretching long shadows across the booths. The lunch rush had faded, leaving only a handful of customers lingering over coffee refills and half-eaten pie. Contessa wiped down the counter with her usual precision, while Maggie leaned against the register, watching an older man at one of the booths.

He was hunched over his plate, frowning deeply at his food.

“Here we go,” Maggie muttered.

Contessa followed her gaze....

ANNOUNCEMENT

Updates will be slowed for a while because I'm feeling a bit ill. Sorry, everyone.