Clark adjusted his jacket as he lingered at the edge of the dockside street. The warehouse Hookwolf had chosen looked like any other in the vicinity as it loomed ahead, its steel walls streaked with rust, graffiti, and a dying floodlight stuttering above the side entrance. From a distance it could have been abandoned. But up close, the truth was harder to miss.
He wasn’t the only one waiting, however. Groups of men drifted toward the entrance in loose packs of twos or more, carrying t...
2025-08-27 05:00:11 +0000 UTC
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Taylor had tried. God, she had tried.
Every step she took to enter the warehouse had been careful.
Even after she’d blundered into Bakuda’s opening trap, she forced herself to stay calm and to think. She angled herself away from the subsequent threads in her sight, ducked and twisted whenever it flared red, and held back blows when she should have struck. Every dodge, every feint, and every half-second of hesitation came from the same desperate hope: maybe this ...
2025-08-26 07:15:42 +0000 UTC
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Nakamura had been afraid before.
He’d been afraid when the waves came crashing over Kyushu, when Leviathan tore through the city like a god made of storm and fury. He’d been afraid as he watched his parents drown in front of him, his sister swept away by the black water. He’d been afraid as he left his home with nothing but a crumpled photograph of his family and the brittle hope that America might offer something better.
He’d been afraid when the ABB found him months late...
2025-08-25 15:08:40 +0000 UTC
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Naruto leaned back in the uncomfortable chair shoved into the corner of his tiny office, legs propped lazily on the desk, and eyes half-shut. It was late, long after the last bell had rung, and all of his students were already home. His clones had finished tidying the mats, locking away the training gear, and even wiping down the chalk where he’d scrawled out the latest diagrams.
For once, Winslow was quiet. Sure, he could hear the whirr of the janitor’s vacuum down the hall, ...
2025-08-25 09:39:43 +0000 UTC
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Battery hadn’t expected much when the call came through.
Miss Militia’s coded message had been short and to the point: Target sighted at Fugly Bob’s. Civilian presence is heavy. Immediate support required.
That was all she needed. In her experience, situations like this rarely unfolded cleanly. Sometimes it meant a quick scuffle and an arrest, other times it turned into a chase across half the city, and on the rare good days it fizzled before it could ignite...
2025-08-24 05:00:05 +0000 UTC
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Miss Militia—or Hannah, since she was in civilian wear now, her dark hair tied back with a cheap scrunchie—kept her shoulders loose and posture relaxed, the way she had practiced for years. Nothing about her screamed cape, not the clothes she wore, not the way she sat in the booth, and not even the way her gaze occasionally swept the room. To anyone else in Fugly Bob’s, she was just another woman fueling up with a combo meal before a long day ahead.
And God, did she enjoy...
2025-08-22 07:09:18 +0000 UTC
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Anakin knew he shouldn’t judge someone based on appearances. He’d learned that lesson a hundred times over, having met Jedi Masters who started off from humble beginnings, smugglers who turned out to be heroes, and senators who hid secret plots behind polite smiles. The galaxy was full of masks and facades.
But even so…
It was a hard pill to swallow that his only credible lead on Cauldron was a child. And he wasn't just any odd child. No, he was a pimply-faced, grea...
2025-08-22 05:04:27 +0000 UTC
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The next shove had more force than Greg expected, more than it should’ve had. His sneakers squeaked against the tiled flooring as he staggered back away from the lockers, his own backpack swinging hard against his side. Instinct screamed at him to flare his aura, brace himself with it, and hit back until she stopped.
But no, not here. Not in public in front of everyone.
Greg ground his heels against the floor, forcing balance into place, and clenched his jaw, brea...
2025-08-20 06:25:37 +0000 UTC
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Taylor dodged the first hard-light blast, not because she was faster than him, but because she was already moving, already reacting before her mind had caught up with what was happening. It wasn’t instinct so much as a desperate awareness of how fragile her position truly was. The next blast struck the rooftop beside her, close enough that she could almost feel its heat as it sent the tar bursting upward in a spray of scraps. Only then did she realize the truth:
This fight would...
2025-08-19 09:13:22 +0000 UTC
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On the personal front, things weren’t going great.
Her dad was really worried. He didn’t say it outright—communication was still a difficult thing for both of them—but Taylor could read it in every little thing he did. The way he lingered at the dinner table after meals, staring at nothing in particular as his coffee went cold. The way looked up from the newspaper just a little too often when she excused herself early.
Danny Hebert had always been a quiet man, but la...
2025-08-19 08:23:02 +0000 UTC
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Greg wasn't exactly dressed to impress.
His latest makeshift costume wasn't great. It wasn't even good. A hoodie, some basic motorcycle protective equipment underneath, and another cheap mask he'd picked up at a costume shop. It barely felt passable, but it was all he had.
So, here he was. Standing outside PRT Headquarters.
The building loomed over him, a monolith of sleek glass and reinforced concrete. The bold black PRT logo gleamed under the morning sun, stark against ...
2025-08-19 06:44:52 +0000 UTC
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The cameras started clicking before he even stepped out.
Gojo pushed through the curtain with his usual loose gait, hands stuffed in his pockets, and blindfold in place. The PRT had offered him a dozen ways to ‘look official’: a formal uniform, a speech written by a professional, or the option to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with costumed heroes for added legitimacy.
He’d declined all of it with the same smile he always wore, and strolled across the stage like he owned i...
2025-08-18 05:09:01 +0000 UTC
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It turned out to be easier than he’d expected.
Gojo had been bracing himself for some elaborate, drawn-out, and ultimately pointless, scheme: maybe weeks of reconnaissance; digging through financial records; shaking down lieutenants and soldiers; or maybe even a little cloak-and-dagger work. But no, the Empire Eighty-Eight’s biggest weakness wasn’t buried in some encrypted hard drive or locked in a vault.
It was right there, staring him in the face the entire time.
Rep...
2025-08-15 06:40:26 +0000 UTC
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Despite what everyone thought—or said out loud if they were feeling particularly brave or particularly rude—Greg Veder knew he tended to do too much. No, scratch that. He knew he was too much. Too much for teachers, too much for classmates, and too much for people who were supposed to love him, like his parents.
It wasn’t a habit, or a phase, or some tragic character that could be smoothed out with a spiritual journey to India, a few therapy sessions, or a bestselling sel...
2025-08-14 12:19:29 +0000 UTC
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Getting a meeting with Carol Dallon turned out to be much harder than Clark first imagined.
The city’s mood was turning darker by the day. The PRT’s credibility had cracked heavily in the wake of Eidolon’s actions and subsequent death, and the sudden vacuum of public trust was being filled by the loudest, angriest voices. Fascist rhetoric wasn’t just on message boards anymore or in secret spaces, but was on street corners, in rallies, and in the eyes of the people Clark passed o...
2025-08-13 07:53:24 +0000 UTC
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I was lying on my bed, thinking about my next step, when an idea for an original story suddenly hit me. My previous light novels hadn’t quite hit the mark, despite being sent to many editors, so this time I’m ready and willing to give it everything I’ve got. Admittedly, the concept isn’t as unique as Marked for Death (or Marked for Her), but I’ve already written the blurb. Here it is:
The God Hypothesis
“God is real, I’m Him.”
...
2025-08-12 17:56:58 +0000 UTC
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Greg had almost forgotten what Winslow smelled like: some unique blend of burnt coffee from the teachers’ lounge, industrial-strength cleaner that never quite masked the stale tang of sweat and grease, and the faint but ever-present reek of cigarette smoke from the back doors.
Normally, the place felt like it was pressing down on him from all sides until his eyes were glued to the floor. But today, it didn’t bother him.
He was here in broad daylight, in his own skin, wit...
2025-08-12 07:00:07 +0000 UTC
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Finding Bakuda wasn’t the hard part.
Taylor’s eyes saw more than colors and images, and more than the not-so neat lines of concrete, brick, and steel that made up Brockton Bay. She saw beneath the veil of the world, to the passengers superimposed over every parahuman. Alien shapes, vast and strange, tethered to their hosts in ways she couldn’t fully understand but could track with ease.
Bakuda’s work was impossible to miss.
Fine, hair-thin tendrils radiated outward f...
2025-08-12 05:00:08 +0000 UTC
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Taylor had told them she wasn’t reckless, and that was true. Shinobi didn’t win by charging in head-on; they won by shaping the battlefield, dictating its pace until the opponent danced to their tune without realizing it. Against someone like Lung, a frontal assault was suicide. You didn’t fight him in a straight battle if you wanted to live.
“As I said before,” Taylor reminded them as they reviewed the plan, “we can’t beat him head-on, so we don’t. We keep him moving, k...
2025-08-11 09:44:47 +0000 UTC
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Sophia had been trying not to think about it all day. Emma’s reassurances had just been that: reassurances. Pretty, but ultimately meaningless and empty, words meant to soothe herself more than Sophia. They didn’t change the facts.
The locker incident had been messy, and not in the way they wanted.
It wasn’t that she cared about Hebert. She didn't. The girl was a pushover, the kind of weakling Sophia had always hated. And it wasn’t as if she’d actually gotten hu...
2025-08-11 06:33:39 +0000 UTC
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Thank you to Dragonin for the only suggestion. The rest were made by me.
2025-08-10 08:55:30 +0000 UTC
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This is a bit late, but I want you guys to decide what Taylor’s next loop would be in the comment section. I'll pick the ones I like, and make a poll for it. Don't worry, I'll be the one to figure out how she would break it.
2025-08-09 10:40:40 +0000 UTC
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Anakin Skywalker leaned back in the booth of another 24-hour café, the blue-lit screen in front of him casting shifting shadows over his face. On the monitor, a cluttered browser window displayed the familiar logo of Parahumans Online.
He’d been here since evening scrolling through posts, and he’d come to recognize certain usernames who haunted the conspiracy boards until they were either banned or placed on probation. The worst ones were barely literate, full of wild spec...
2025-08-08 07:36:32 +0000 UTC
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Clark Kent had once uncovered a multinational weapons ring that funneled stolen alien tech to warlords in South America. He’d written exposés on the dangerous amount of lead pipes in Metropolis's water infrastructure, uncovered the mob trafficking drugs over said city’s air space, and walked through fire—sometimes literally—to get to the truth.
Now he dried plates in a diner off Lord Street.
His apron still clung to his jeans as he sat at the back corner booth of that sam...
2025-08-07 08:28:33 +0000 UTC
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The unwritten rules were unwritten not because they were sacred or logical or anything even remotely close to fair, but because they were the thin, brittle glue keeping the world from ripping itself apart at the seams.
In theory, they were simple: don’t go after civilian identities, don’t escalate without due cause, and don’t challenge the status quo too directly. A shaky agreement between villains, heroes, vigilantes, and the institutions trying to hold everything together with t...
2025-08-07 07:00:24 +0000 UTC
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Something was off.
Sophia Hess leaned back in her chair, arms lazily folded behind her head, and eyes fixed not on the whiteboard or the teacher droning on about whatever, but on the empty desk two rows to her left. Hebert’s desk, which for the third or so week running was still vacant.
Most of the students hadn’t noticed, and those who had didn’t seem to care; even Veder, who had looked a little confused the first few days, had stopped glancing over. Mr. Gladly no longer pa...
2025-08-06 10:12:53 +0000 UTC
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Danny Hebert wasn’t a fool.
He might have spent the past two years stumbling through grief and paperwork, losing more sleep to his association disputes than he ever had to bedtime stories, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew his daughter was hiding something from him.
He didn’t know when the realization had settled in; maybe it was the second or third time he’d checked her room after midnight only to find it empty, or maybe it was the strange sounds coming from the basement. The...
2025-08-06 08:12:30 +0000 UTC
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It was safe to say Taylor was relieved.
It wasn't to say that she was joyous, or even elated. Those emotions felt too distant, and too large for where she was now. After all, the truth was that she didn't know if she was cured of the thing that had wormed its way inside her since the first time the day repeated, the thing that had stitched her life to that single moment of death, again and again.
But she was relieved because she was alive. The worl...
2025-08-04 06:26:06 +0000 UTC
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Anakin Skywalker took another slow bite of his burger, chewing without tasting. His head remained bowed, just enough to stay out of direct line-of-sight of the other patrons. Fugly Bob’s wasn’t his first choice for quiet contemplation: it was loud, bright, messy, and filled with the kind of chaotic energy that came with sugar-hyped children and parents running mainly on caffeine and stress.
But anonymity came first.
He looked the part of a drifter. His coat was nondescript and...
2025-08-02 07:47:41 +0000 UTC
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The amazing Marycorn over at Reddit just drew this fan art for Limitless. Ahhhhhhhh. Isn't it amazing? And she's planning on drawing another for The Honored One!!!! I can't wait to see it and show you guys.
2025-08-01 13:46:42 +0000 UTC
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