Cosmos Gifts Novels & Stories

Regardless of how much I might try to hide, I would now be recognised all over the country. When the Goddess said she had gifted me a piece of herself, I had believed she meant the visions I was having; a way to see the future if nothing changed. I saw that in my vision of Brayden at the trial ground and of Myra's death. I should have realised sooner that this gift could have possibly come with a visible consequence, but the mark was such an outdated and unheard of blessing in today's day and age that it didn't cross my mind. Had I thought it through properly, I could have checked my body thoroughly when I'd returned and kept it secret. My quest to stay alive had now become infinitely harder

To the perfection of a human reading this, Hi, It’s Narnia’s Fifth Resident. The author. Not Callisto*, the Narnian Resident, fifth one to be exact. If you are reading this, that means that you’ve reached the end of Callisto’s Gift! CONGRATULATIONS and thank you soooo much. Words honestly can’t explain how happy I become when I see even one new read on any of the chapters. It gives me the encouragement to keep going and keep writing. It may not mean much to you, but it means the world to me.

She didn't reply but proceeded to enter his livestream channel, sending him gifts in the form of a hundred supreme rockets. Everyone in the livestream channel went wild—

The usual suspects—Ordinary Joe, Little Miss Ran, Guller, and Lord Pearce, along with the leaderboard champ—were all lurking in silence; however, their gifts kept the virtual applause going. By now, Helma had a pretty good guess who these mystery viewers were. She was not about to spill the beans, though. Then, out of nowhere, the chat exploded with a mega-donation. [Strategist gifts Steady Hemmy a squadron of space knights.] These space knights were the latest craze, a flashy virtual gift that cost a small fortune. A single knight was pricey, but a full squadron? That was a cool five mil. Helma's eyes were glued to the screen. Who was this Strategist, dropping a fortune without so much as a

He read the message twice and found it slightly stupid, but he pressed the send button anyway. The response came in a few seconds. GlideAI gave him six options: A personalized bracelet with her initials or a meaningful date. A curated gift box with her favorite snacks and a small personal note. A book from an author she’s mentioned before. A scented candle set from a brand known for quality, paired with a bath kit. A photo print of a shared memory in a small frame. A bouquet of her favorite flowers.

6 million in an hour! [Are you for real?] [It’s him! I didn’t think he’d come here. What a baller. He immediately gifted 66 Super Rockets in one go.] [Damn! Why didn’t I hear about him before?] [He just started, and he’ll only buy gifts for the small streamers.] [I see!]

she said before hanging up, opening her phone's notes app to record every gift. They had known each other for just a week in high school when Francesco gave her a designer bracelet, still available today. The first holiday after they met, he sent her a silver pendant. Her first birthday after they met, he gave her a rabbit plush—limited edition, custom-made, impossible to buy elsewhere. On the day he confessed, he named a small asteroid after her. As far as she knew, it still drifted peacefully through the galaxy. If Francesco wanted to give it to someone else, all he had to do was rename it.

My lotion. "Wrong address?" I ask. He scans the label. "Alie Lynds, right? Paid tip's already on. Have a good one." Back at my laptop, I open the shopper subscription dashboard. It shows a new client set-up—C. B. Holdings—with a linked "gift program." The intended recipient: A. L. I click the info icon. The details blur like bad TV, then resolve. It's all perfectly legitimate, scrupulously dull. Corporate generosity. A small perk for contractors. No red flags. Unless you count the part where the universe is messing with me.

Rebecca, playing the perfect CEO's secretary, sat front and center—back straight, chin up, basking like she owned the win. I'd scrubbed off the coffee, slipped into a sharp black suit, and grabbed a seat in a low-key corner. Gavin kept rolling, now hyping up NovaTech's crown jewel—Cosmos Core. "Our Cosmos Core algorithm? Rock-solid stability, future-facing design. Nothing else comes close. That's why Helix picked us!" He was practically glowing. I spotted the architecture diagram on the screen and couldn't help a cold smile. Three years later, and he's still riding my code. Pathetic.

Jasmine I stepped out of my car, holding a small, elegantly wrapped gift box. I glanced down at it and couldn’t help but smile. I had spent a small fortune on this gift. No… a fortune, by any reasonable standard, but tonight wasn’t about the money. Tonight was about impression. About approval. Today marked the fifth anniversary of the charity foundation that Collette Reynolds founded… an organization dedicated to funding private education, medical care, and long-term housing solutions for underprivileged families who had slipped through the cracks of government aid.