Novel & Cerita Stark Reality Oblivion

KAI I watched the man standing opposite me with a dark glare. He looked happy, dressed in a white suit. After vowing never to marry the bastard, I'm now standing in front of an altar, getting wedded to him. I had no choice. Schwarz Holdings was on the brink of collapse, and I had to keep it up. I tried. I fought for it. I fucking did everything I could to keep us afloat, but somehow; the universe was against me.

It smelled of mice and old pine needles, but it was out of the wind. Stark collapsed onto a crate. Madame Devereaux immediately started a small fire in the stone hearth using dry lint from her pocket. I sat on the floor, my back against the rough wall. I pulled the journal out, just to make sure it was still there. It was. I looked at Stark. "Why?" I asked. "Why did you come with me? You could have surrendered. Cian might have let you keep your title." Stark laughed, a dry, rattling sound. "Cian is a sociopath, Marigold. He doesn't want a Lord Chancellor. He wants a dog. And while I am many things—arrogant, greedy, vain—I am no man's dog."

And the last place on earth Ravael Steele should be. Dark hockey omegaverse romance | Enemies to obsession | Hidden identity | Possessive alpha | He falls first and has no idea what is happening to him

After all, this was his first time meeting someone as slow and oblivious as me. With that thought in mind, he put down the menu and said, "Now, then." I looked around. The men playing the men-in-black bodyguards from the dark room were not there. Now, only Theodore and I were in the private room. Which meant he wanted me to roleplay with him. There was no script either, so he must want me to improvise. Thinking of how Nora had said this movie was an action movie, I pulled the switchblade out of my pants pocket and pointed the tip at Theodore.

Evania was still in the dark about Franklin’s death, or so he hoped—while Starkov’s threats blew his phone every few minutes. He felt the pressure of a million thoughts, a chaotic swarm he couldn’t quite kill. He opened his eyes, staring up at the cream-colored ceiling and the twisted chandelier that looked like frozen lightning. He turned his gaze toward the window and stood up. The movement was slow, deliberate. His phone began to buzz again, but he didn't bother. He knew it was Starkov’s dogs barking for attention.

Then, she turned to me guiltily and whispered, "I'll… I'll buy you another one next time." I nodded indifferently. I'd heard her make promises like that countless times and never seen her follow through. … At the photography studio, Marcus went first and even took several photos with Jessica. When it was my turn with her, the photographer raised his camera but awkwardly lowered it again. "Oops. Sorry, but I'm all out of film." I secretly cheered, but kept a straight face, saying calmly, "Oh. Forget it, then." As we left the studio, Jessica pulled a train ticket from her pocket and handed it to me. It was a standing-room-only ticket to Lisbeth, departing in four days.

The game was testing whether we were worthy of admin access. Amon's shadows caught six instances, crushing them like paper. They dissolved but eight new ones spawned instantly, doubling the number targeting him. Fabian tore through his attackers with vampire speed, but each kill spawned two more. Within seconds, he was fighting twelve instances instead of three. "Olyrienne, now!" Miranda shouted. Olyrienne's eyes glazed as she activated Hemlock, searching through alternate realities for better outcomes. The world flickered, and suddenly half the instances disappeared. Not killed, just swapped with a timeline where they'd gone different directions.

I was the only one still looking like I wanted to scream. “Everyone here came the same way you did,” Nova whispered beside me. “We all fell. We all woke up. Some call it hell. I call it the Game.” “Why are we even here?” I hissed. Before He could answer, that same cold robotic voice filled the air again. “Welcome, participants, to Erevos System – Zone 1 . This is your new reality. You have been selected based on your choices, sins, and survival potential.” I felt my stomach churn.

against the "Entropic-Vacuum." These engineers developed a "Stark-Culture." They lived in the "Interstitial-Vents" of the armor-plates, surrounded by the "Hiss" of escaping steam and the "Deep-Groan" of shifting metal. They viewed the "Internal-Worlds" of the Union as "Soft-Dreamers," while they saw themselves as the "Hardened-Reality" that made those dreams possible. They began to "Inscribe" the shell with "Manual-Overrides"—physical levers and valves that could "Shut-Down" entire sectors of the Multiverse if a "Breach" occurred.