Kisah-kisah yang unik

I  Throughout the vast expanses of the multiverse, there exist galaxies beyond number; and within them, planets of varying sizes, too many to count. Power is but a volatile concept, in the multiverse. Even the stars themselves seem insignificant in comparison. Yet upon these countless worlds there exist countless wondrous beings. It is common for lower beings to assume that they and their planet are the very center of the universe. They consider themselves entirely unique, the most marvelous creatures in existence. All the while they assert themselves, plundering and domineering over an increasing area as they endeavor to survive and expand further out into the universe. They're all the same, those planets. But not Mithlora. Mithlora is a small planet, hidden among clusters of stars. Its light is so dim, it's nigh on invisible to most, and those who journeyed through time once gave it the name 'Across the Galaxy'. Yet upon this planet there lived only eight who drifted

Parting Ways The yellow sand gradually obscured the bright red sunset, and the heat that had accumulated throughout the day dissipating as the sun made its way down. In the distance, a vulture was for a long time hovering under the empty blue sky before angrily flapping its pitch-black wings towards the setting sun. "Hey! Hey kid! Watcha lookin’ at?" as Clint tied up his horse and walked up behind Mathilda. He followed her gaze but saw nothing except the yellow sands stretching into the distance. Mathilda came to her senses and said “nothing” as smiled. Then she looked at Clint and said, "Where should we go next?" "Huh! Of course we’re just gonna press on till we get to Los Pecados where we’ll snuff out Kane’s nest! Then we’ll make arrangements for how he’ll die..." "Oh-wait! Wait!" Claude interrupted Clint before he could finish speaking. "I know Kane has done a lot of evil things, but I don't want his life to end." "We just n

Every individual was born differently. They vary in race, culture, and social status, while sharing one common trait, which is the poor perception of beauty. Veiled by that inability, most of them walk the earth in a manner as mindless as it gets. Stuart learned it as a child, and has deepened this belief over time. He was blessed with a unusual biological feature, which allowed his left eye to visualize the life force coursing through human veins. Stuart was adopted by his stepfather who worked as a researcher in the Institute of Ramboat. Like a young prodigy, he would often join his stepfather in relentless hours of reading. As he grew up, he developed great obsession with all those academic papers that seemed beyond comprehension of a teenager. It was not until he saw something extraodinary in one of his stepfather's experiments did he become aware of his unique vision. He soon pieced this discovery with all those documented findings he read about earlier together. 'The esse

Once upon a time in a small village nestled between rolling hills, there lived a curious young girl named Elara. One day, while exploring the outskirts of the village, she stumbled upon an ancient, mysterious-looking key. Intrigued, Elara decided to unlock the door of the old abandoned mansion that stood at the edge of the woods. Little did she know, this unlocked door would lead her on an unexpected adventure filled with magic, secrets, and the discovery of her own extraordinary abilities. As Elara stepped into the dark foyer of the mansion, the air seemed to crackle with an otherworldly energy. The grand staircase beckoned her upward, and she ascended with a mix of trepidation and excitement. Each room held a different surprise – a library filled with enchanted books, a ballroom where spectral dancers twirled in a timeless waltz, and a garden where flowers bloomed at the sound of her laughter. Deep within the mansion, Elara uncovered a hidden chamber containing a magical artifact – t

Dear Paquito: It's me, Jolie. It's been several months now, I trust all is still well with you? We are all fine. I've been wanting to send you a letter ever since you departed, but never knew what I should write. Besides, who knows if such a letter would even reach you? Despite all that though, I still want to write to you. To commemorate the good times we've spent together, and to give myself a sense of motivation. Just yesterday a group of bandits tried to steal the winter supplies I was sending off. Given that I'm female and was dispatching such a large shipment alone, they thought I'd put up little resistance. They never imagined I would be able to knock them sprawling all on my own. And so, I safely sent the supplies back to the village. You know, it reminded me of the first time we met. I remember that I'd headed out alone then, too, and been apprehended by a bunch of bandits. But back then I wasn't strong enough to defend myself. You saved me that

Act One The vast Agelta Drylands are littered with the remains of various civilizations. In the huge, expansive desert, many ancient tribes that differ wildly from one another have thrived in this harsh environment, passing on their own cultures from generation to generation. This story is about one of these thousands of tribes. One hot afternoon, a large group of villains and sand hunters from Los Pecados charged toward the tribe's village on carefully modified Sand Hunter trucks and riding Dinozards. They quickly surrounded the village and gathered everyone together using the force of their weapons. A man with a lame right leg slowly got out of his truck that was surrounded by his thugs. His face was pale, as if he hadn't seen the sun for a year. The man swept his eyes across the tribal people gathered together before him. In a raised voice, he demanded: "Call out your leader! I have a few words to say!" This gloomy looking guy was called Blandy, the most hated char