Romans & histoires What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger Novel

Even, if he was my mate, I do not like him and wouldn't want him to be around me. What was he even doing in the first place? He left his safe zone roaming through the outer worlds. I let out a sarcastic chuckle. Maybe he has no one to inform him that the world outside here is a lot of complicated and unsafe. I shut tight my eyes to see through the situations in which he was. Oh gosh! I had to open my eyes. It was gravely irritating to the eyes because he was being beaten and he was bleeding from his nose. Eight rogues werewolves against a wolf which is an Alpha.

I still haven't know what would happen if we would kill the protagonists. Would the world collapse since this world was made for those protagonists? END OF CHAPTER 38

Nothing lasts. "Those who survive are always alone because they know that when shit happens, everyone is just going to run away from them again," I said, "Surviving makes you selfish, it makes you heartless and cruel," I nodded, "So yeah, what's doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger, but no one really knows at what cost." It's simple, what doesn't kill you, it fucks you up.

“I just don’t think you can do it anymore. I don’t think you’re cut out for me.” He was getting angrier. “What do you mean? Do you know who I am? I am the strongest so how can you say something like that? I will do this, I will prove to you all that I am strong enough for this. I will put you to shame.” If there was anything I hated more than people who made me talk unnecessarily, it was people who made my life harder than it was supposed to be. ‘Don’t make me kill you. It won’t be very nice. Call it off. The whole thing.’

I guess that news of me being alive spread fast as now some random person who happened to have glowing eyes similar to that of Evin, wanted me for some reason and he was willing to go to the extent of killing innocent people to get what he wanted. Honestly, why me? what do I have, I hated the fact that others were at risk because of some idiot like me, these people were too good for me I felt, I don't know what I had done to deserve friends like them, but I would never let them get hurt. I had to learn to use my powers properly, I wasn't going to sit and watch my friends being tortured. As of now, I had gotten enough memories to realize my identity as Mez, some memories seemed heavily blocke

The world, since the beginning, has always been a playground for the strong. Since the start of the dawn, humans compete with each other to exceed their own limits and surpass others. The ones who pass through the hurdles, and come to the top of this vicious cycle, are the ones termed as strong. Some philosophers often like to coin the terms "Survival of the fittest", "Only the strong can make the rules" or "Winner takes it all". If you were weak, the flow of time would inevitably consume you, plunging your very being into the sea of a forgotten dark abyss.

progressive-markdown_:is(p,blockquote,ul,ol,h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6)]:pr-8"> _*]:min-w-0 gap-3 standard-markdown"> I have never believed I could lose. That is not arrogance exactly, or maybe it is, but it has never felt like arrogance from the inside. It has always felt like fact. I have been the strongest person in every room I have walked into since I was seventeen years old. I have fought things that should have broken me and walked away from every single one of them, and somewhere along the way that stopped feeling like luck and started feeling like the natural order of things. Like the world had simply agreed that Caleb does not go down.

"There will always be people weaker than you and people stronger than you. But among all the strong people you meet, there is always one person who is stronger than everyone else. That’s how life works. There’s always someone above." "But why did it have to be me that met him?" Myrrak snapped, then tried to calm himself. "I was humiliated, Daisy. You can talk all calmly like this because it wasn’t you. You weren’t the one thrown through the air like a bag of feathers. He even made two people from nothing, Lynn said they are weapons." Daisy scoffed loudly. "And you actually believe what Lynn says?"

Because while they’re watching each other, while they’re reacting, while they’re fighting in the open I’ll be rebuilding in the dark. Stronger. Smarter. Untouchable. And the next time I strike it won’t be a warning. It won’t be a message. It won’t be something they can recover from. It’ll be the end. Not just of what they built. But of them. Completely. And this time when my shadows come back they won’t scream when they die. Because they won’t die at all.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed ins