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Turning someone into a cleaning maniac

Random_Honeystar
You spot a mysterious, shiny ring on the ground. It gleams under the sunlight, almost calling out to you. Curiosity gets the better of you. You pick it up… and without thinking, slip it onto your finger. Boom. Something shifts. Suddenly, you feel an unstoppable urge no, a need to clean. Dust? You see it everywhere. Smudges? You wipe them in seconds. Mess? You can’t rest until everything sparkles. You've turned into a full-blown cleaning maniac with expert-level skills in mopping, scrubbing, organizing, and more. This isn’t normal. This ring? It’s cursed or maybe enchanted. Now, your life is a whirlwind of shine, soap, and secrets. Because the deeper you scrub, the more you uncover... and soon, you'll realize this isn't just about cleaning anymore.
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Dark Genesis: The Xenomorph Equation

Enzer's unexpected relocation landed him squarely in the chaotic landscape of American comics, and he wasn't alone. An Xenomorph creature, silent and ever-present, became his unlikely shadow. With a bold declaration that hinted at the scale of his ambition, Enzer announced, "Let's set a small initial goal: I intend to architect a universe teeming with Xenomorphs!" And so, across the infinite iterations of the Marvel multiverse, his plan began to unfold: The telltale screech of repulsor jets heralded Iron Man's descent, anti-Xenomorph armor blazing. "Enzer," he grit, plummeting towards the earth, "this ends now." In a somber echo from a reshaped future, Wolverine, his adamantium claws glinting, lamented, "Mutants were never meant to be part of your alien infestation." Conqueror Kang, a master of timelines, surveyed the silent proliferation of Xenomorph variants bearing his own face, a disquieting stillness settling over his features. The tremors of interdimensional breaches rippled into the DC multiverse, where: Superman, usually an unstoppable force, staggered back from a brutal assault by super-powered Xenomorphs. "Engage the kryptonite cannons!" he roared in desperation. Batman, a figure defined by his control, found himself grappling savagely with an Xenomorph, his grim question turning into a horrified realization. "Do you bleed? I guess not!” Light years away, Green Lantern, a beacon of cosmic order, was relentlessly pursued through the star systems by Xenomorphs wielding a grotesque assortment of Lantern Rings. "How in the hell are these things even capable of channeling the Corps' power?!" he bellowed in frustration. As Enzer orchestrated his alien army's relentless expansion across the myriad realities, daring to seize gods themselves as unwilling incubators, he finally paused, taking in the sheer scope of the unfolding pandemonium. A slow dawning of realization crossed his face. "Well," he murmured, a hint of understated alarm in his voice, "it appears things might have spiraled slightly out of control."
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