Urban Immortal Cultivator Novels & Stories

The usually busy streets were now occupied by dull errand bots, devoid of life as if humans had suddenly been exterminated. Picking up a pen, my mind went back to a certain chestnut haired prodigy. Ignacio Cross was an interesting man. At merely twenty-eight years old, the closet genius had made a breakthrough with Pantiumite. Yet, he wasn't arrogant like the folks residing in the Inner City. How could anyone be so selfless? Even I would hesitate to abandon what I had to be with Nash. If anything, I would rather create a way for the Inner City and Slums to interact freely.

Six months have passed since the sky was over Ouroboros. I knelt on the hard, black obsidian floor of the former megacity, but at this point was covered by a thick layer of genuine, moist earth. My hands were buried deep in the dirt. It was not a toxic mud more. It was life. I carefully pressed the fine, green shoots of young tomato and Onion plants to the earth. As a planting box served the hollowed, solid Breast chassis of an old Juggernaut cyborg. Where once a deadly plasma core