Is The Gundam Physalis Destroyable In Battle?

Humans? A low-level world? No cultivators or gods? Can the world be trampled on like ants by the strongmen of the upper realms? This is Long Chen's new journey after being reborn from the flames of the Vermilion Bird to fight against the strong cultivators who have always used the lower worlds as their slaves and playthings. And discover the ugly worlds and the people who are the rulers of those worlds. Protecting, destroying, and shaping are Long Chen's new goals. A journey in which Long Chen met various powerful cultivators and even so-called gods. Fighting, defeating, protecting, it's all in Long Chen's heart. He will also meet his parents, whom he hasn't seen since the day he was born. Would Long Chen accept them? Or will he decide to have nothing to do with them? Can Long Chen maintain his goal, or will he once again fall into the same temptation as the Black Dragon? "I live for myself, destiny? Fate cannot stop me! I'll keep standing no matter how many times I fall. As long as I'm still breathing, there will be no surrender in my life.

It was the tenth year of the Mechanical Civilization. My girlfriend, who always spoiled her brother to an unreasonable extent, orchestrated my death. Luckily, I was reborn seven days before the arrival of the machines. I bought a heavy-duty truck and evolved the strongest mecha. Close-combat mecha, long-range mecha, weapons, shields, funnels, modules… This time, I wanted the best of everything. My name is Victor Wild. Born to be a victor, born to be wild.

The year is 2134. The world has been under the command of The Alaina Sipreme Rule, alien race that has fused their bodies with that of computers and machines, making them semi-immortal. When they invaded they were unstoppable to the underprepared Human race. They took the planet, killing billions of people, and are using the last couple of millions to fill their ranks by forcing them to go through a process called Techmorphasis. But in every night there are stars to shine light on the earth. A resistance has risen up to take on the alien tyranny. They fight to free their people across the world. They hunt down soldier types and return stolen children to their families. They free those who are enslaved from their masters and give them a new home. They work under the stars, brings small bits of light and hope to those they save untill they take down the Alaina, ending the night that has plagued their world. They are The New Dawn.

After obtaining the Mech Designer System, Ves aims to create the greatest mechs in the galaxy! In the far future, the galactic human civilization has entered the Age of Mechs. The countless lesser powers of humanity have come to adopt mechs as their main weapons of war. Only a small number of humans have the right genetic aptitude to pilot these destructive war machines the size of buildings. Born to a military family in the edge of the galaxy, Ves Larkinson is one of the many people who lacks the talent to earn glory in battle. Instead, he became a mech designer. Helped by his missing father, Ves has obtained the mysterious Mech Designer System that can help him rise in the galaxy and beyond. His mechs based on the principles of life quickly allows him to rise to prominence. Powerful and highly compatible with mech pilots, his products have the potential to take the market by storm. However, success does not come easily, and countless challenges bar his ability to sell his mechs to a market eager for innovation! With the sins of the human race in the galactic arena slowly catching up, Ves must navigate the perils of the ultra-competitive mech market and maintain control over his growing organization of misfits. This is the golden age of mechs. This is the golden age of humanity. The question is, will it last? "Any challenge can be overcome as long as I design the right mech!"

What would you do if you found out the life you have is a lie? Would you embrace an immortal, but dangerous future or run away? Chrysalism (n.) the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm. ××× This book contains swearing, erotic passages, as well as trigger subjects such as physical, verbal and all other sorts of abuse. As it is written on what comes to mind at the time, I advise you to read at your own risk. Please do not read if you feel the slightest doubt in your mind if you should read it or not. Mental health is a serious thing and it must be taken into consideration. You have been warned. ×××

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.