Novel & Cerita Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely Book

(Alexander The God of absolute powers pov) My annoyance was elevating by the second as I took at how simple this room was. It smelt like old paper and water damage. It seemed like the power radiating off of the dimension was a hoax. There was not one ounce of power In it. I watched everyone walking around picking up books and putting them back instantly. It seemed like this room was useless.

(ONE CROSS) “PRIDE, WRATH, GLUTTONY, LUST, ENVY, GREED, AND SLOTH.” Knowing more than what other mortals and gifted might think of her at first glance, she whispers the sins as the words vanish in front of her. Turns everything into ashes and goes directly inside the book that somehow loses all its pristine details and colors, and that is left with an utter old and torn cover that somehow is being forgotten by time and forsaken by anyone. It flies right back into her arms, where she hums for seconds and whispers.

He held it to me as if to offer me more, and I shook my head. “It’ll be okay.” He said, “It’s been long enough since you took the meds.” I shook my head again. I doubted I would even be able to finish this glass. Robust, my ass. This shit was hard. “The Corrupt are typically in positions of power.” He said as he sat the goblet down. I sat and mulled over what he said. “But not always. Some lie low, infiltrating like termites.” “So, like government?” I asked.

“West, you all are very bloodthirsty, aren’t you. I understand and believe me, I want to expand as well but I believe that we should work harder and not smarter.” I ran my fingers along the spine of book. “Knowledge they say, is power and believe me, I have harnessed that power and you won’t believe the things I can do.” I glared at him and he immediately began to choke. I watched him writhe in pain, gasping for breath and soon, he was groveling at my feet. “My… Lord…. Please…” I continued to stare at him and soon, he was still and breathing frantically. He remained on the floor, not daring to get up.

She stepped away and for a heartbeat she looked like what she was, hunter and historian and strategist. “You should know,” she said quietly, “power like that doesn’t sit idle. It corrupts the hands that hold it and the world that bends to it. You love that small boy and you’re willing to be small yourself to save him. Admirable and pathetic.” “Then let us be pathetic,” I snapped, more sharply than I meant. “Let us be savage in the way that matters. I will bury myself if I must. But I will not let Liam be a bargaining chip.”

The want of power is the principle driving force of evil, and it applies in every area of life. Even the mundanes had their own fair share of power struggles, with exceptional crime rates rising each time elections drew near, and it has always been a thing of pity that the poor masses could never fathom that these crimes against them were in one or the other, whether directly or indirectly, originally orchestrated by the very people campaigning to be elected into different public offices, and like sheep with a shepherd, they blindly vote them into office, giving them the right to do the unthinkable under the protection of the law.

"I learned from their mistakes. Principles are luxuries for people who don't understand power." "And you understand power?" "I understand that power is the only thing that matters. Not truth, not justice, not compassion, just power. The ability to impose your will on reality and make it stick." He opened the door. "Come. I'll show you." Inside, the house was surprisingly well-preserved. Someone had maintained it, keeping the worst of the decay at bay. The furniture was covered with protective sheets, but I could see the quality underneath: expensive materials, elegant craftsmanship, and the kind of wealth that came from generations of accumulation.

More like something tragic. “You think manipulation makes you strong?” “Yes,” she said, unwavering. “Because power respects power. Not virtue.” Silence settled again—dark, heavy. Sophia stepped closer, her voice softening into something dangerous. “You can still have a future. I’m offering it to you.” He looked at her—exhausted, bruised, but somehow still standing taller than any man who’d lost an empire should. “I spent years chained to corruption,” he said. “My father’s. The board’s. The legacy’s.” His gaze hardened. “I won’t go back just because you’ve put a prettier mask on the same monster.”

“You think you can end the corruption? You think it is I, and I alone that is so corrupt? That I have fueled and driven the corruption in this city and kingdom?” “You are king,” Benedict observed coldly. “Indeed. But a king is one man. And when the world does not choose to change, there is little one man can do to change it. I have simply capitalized on my position and mastered the game. It is that which disgruntles the maggots in the streets outside. Not the corruption itself, but the fact that I am better at it than them. If you think you can fix what does not want fixing you are gravely mistaken.”