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SCULPTURED DESIRE

Cassie_Berry_9014
Living as the fifth daughter of a noble family, Amira found herself adrift in the fog of her home, neglected and overlooked by those she once called her own. Her days were spent in the solitude of the attic, a hidden oasis away from the bustling world outside. However, when the tumult of war erupts and she is thrust into the role of a truce offering between two formidable nations, she grapples with the uncertainty of surviving in a new kingdom known for its icy demeanor and ruthless nature. Will she navigate this foreign terrain and carve out a new existence she never fathomed? (Excerpt) "Clean it," Zyran commanded. "Yes, your Highness," the servant acknowledged with a respectful bow, ready to fetch the cleaning supplies. "Not you," Zyran interjected, causing the servant to freeze in confusion. "Her," he added, nodding in the direction of Anastasia, whose eyes widened in disbelief. Anastasia blinked rapidly, trying to process the situation. "Pardon?" she asked. "Clean the mess on the floor," Zyran instructed. The crowd started murmuring and Anastasia shifted uncomfortably on her knees. "That's the servant's job, not mine. Why should I? I don't think I understand what you are trying to say Prince Zyran. My father will never approve of this," Anastasia began only to be abruptly cut off by Zyran. "Don't make me repeat myself. I'm sure you wouldn't like it if I interfered with your task," Zyran warned. Anastasia's lips trembled as she fought to hold back her words. She knew Zyran's reputation for being ruthless, and she didn't want to make her situation any worse than it already was. "Get me the cleaning supplies," she instructed the servant, who was prepared to follow her command until Zyran interjected. "No one will help you," he declared. Anastasia's chest heaved with anger as she locked eyes with Amira, who was standing behind Zyran. She rose to her knees, intending to fetch the cleaning supplies herself, but Zyran stopped her once again. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "To bring the bucket," she replied with a hint of annoyance, but she quickly reminded herself to remain composed. "I never asked you to stand up," Zyran stated. "Then how am I supposed to clean the floor?" she inquired. "Use your dress," Zyran replied. The onlookers in the crowd were visibly shocked, exchanging bewildered glances and murmurs as they witnessed the unfolding scene. Anastasia's cheeks turned crimson with embarrassment.
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Forged in Chaos: A Transmigrator’s Tale in the DC Universe

Waking up in an alleyway in Gotham City was not how Ethan Reyes expected his day to start. The last thing he remembered was crashing on his couch after a long gaming session, only to find himself in a world he recognized all too well—one filled with gods, monsters, and vigilantes dressed as bats. It took him a moment to realize the city wasn’t just a detailed dream. The distant sirens, the oppressive skyline, and the neon flicker of a nearby ACE Chemicals sign confirmed it. This was Gotham. And that was bad. Then came the pain. It burned through his veins like molten fire before settling into his fingertips. A strange, instinctual urge filled his mind. His gaze landed on the dumpster beside him. Scattered around were a broken switchblade and a rusty pipe. Before he could think, his hands moved on their own, touching both objects. A pulse of energy surged through him, and suddenly, the two items fused—the broken switchblade now embedded itself within the pipe like a makeshift spear. "Holy—What the hell was that?" Experimenting further, he picked up a discarded smartphone and a pair of cheap sunglasses. Another pulse of power, and—bam—a pair of futuristic-looking AR glasses now rested in his hands, displaying HUD information in his vision. That was when it clicked. He had a power—an ability that allowed him to fuse objects together. The results? Unpredictable. Some combinations worked beautifully, while others... not so much. And in a world where Batman, Superman, and the Joker roamed, a power like this was both a blessing and a curse. Survival in Gotham Ethan quickly learned that Gotham was not kind to the weak. Without money or connections, he had to rely on his ability to survive. His first breakthrough came when he fused a lockpick set with a stolen smartwatch—creating a device that could crack digital locks. He used it to raid an abandoned weapons stash, arming himself with gear of his own making. He also experimented with weapons. A standard pistol fused with a flashlight? Now it fired tracer rounds that illuminated targets. A crowbar fused with an electric baton? A shock club capable of stunning enemies. But Gotham was filled with predators. And soon, they noticed him. The Underworld Calls Word spread fast about a "mystic craftsman" who could create bizarre but powerful items. The underworld took interest. First came the low-level thugs, hoping to use him for their own gain. Then came the bigger players. The Penguin wanted to recruit him. Black Mask wanted to own him. And the Joker? He just wanted to see what happened if Ethan fused a grenade with a rubber chicken. It was Batman who intervened first. The Dark Knight, ever the strategist, saw the potential of Ethan’s abilities. But he also saw the danger. In the right hands, Ethan could change the landscape of warfare. In the wrong hands? He could unleash nightmares. The question was—whose hands would he end up in? Survive or Be Consumed As the months passed, Ethan found himself walking a razor’s edge. If he wanted to thrive, he had to be smart. He had to stay ahead of both heroes and villains, mastering his power before someone forced him into a corner. Because in Gotham, there were only two kinds of people: Those who adapted. And those who became stories whispered in the dark.
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