Ficool

antihero

A King's Fate

Alexander Frederick was an ordinary university graduate, poised to inherit his family’s business and a quiet, predictable future. That future was erased in blood. A feared organization (The Selflaw) slaughtered his parents and murdered his closest friend. Grief collapsed into rage, and rage awakened a power so violent it shattered science, reason, and every limit Alexander believed immutable. In claiming vengeance, he destroyed more than his enemies. He destroyed himself. Death should have been final. Instead, Alexander awakens in absolute darkness—bodiless, adrift within an endless void where time fractures and existence feels uncertain. A presence speaks. He believes it to be judgment. He is wrong. What answers him is older than divinity, vast beyond comprehension, and bound by laws even the universe resists. Reborn into a world of Integrators, Alexander rises without his memories, yet burdened by fractured echoes that refuse to fade—fear, shame, grief, and a buried weakness gnawing at his subconscious. Balanced on the edge of madness and a meaningless death, he refuses to break. Not yet. Not until he understands what he has become. Not until he uncovers the truth behind his own incompleteness. The unreasonable power he once wielded has not vanished. It lingers—fractured, restrained, and tied to death itself in ways even the strongest of this world cannot perceive. In a realm far larger, crueler, and more indifferent than the one he lost, Alexander is drawn into conflicts far beyond revenge—forced to confront hidden currents that shape reality, face his fear of dissolution, and walk toward a destiny he can neither deny… …nor escape.
DOS_9T · 5.7k Views

Ruinous Love

**WARNING** CONTAINS SCENES OF EXTREME PHYSICAL VIOLENCE AND SEVERE DISTRESSING PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA● In the shadowed stillness of the room, she stood transfixed amidst the onslaught of memories of a father now gone. Her tears fell not with a cry, but traced a path down her cheeks in a heavy, stifled silence. As his tall shadow loomed upon the threshold, a faint tremor of dread and uncertainty coursed through her. He stepped inside, moving forward slowly, until he stood close before her. For a fleeting moment, her gazed locked with his—those wild eyes said to carry the scent of blood and the weight of a dark, haunted past. But behind that predatory gaze, another truth was beginning to reveal itself. His fingers, trembling with uncertain restraint, reached towards her face; a touch so delicate it seemed impossible that these hands had ever closed around the cold hilt of a sword. He gazed into the girl's light brown eyes but, he was not looking at her; instead, deep within her eyes, he was searching for someone else. Then with his gentle hands, brushed the tears from her cheeks. With a fevered longing, he pulled her against his chest, as if he were chaining her to his very soul; he then buried his face in her hair. With every breath, he drank in the scent of her. The girl, eyes wet and body rooted in place by fear, yet burning like a furnace from sheer embarrassment, heard the rapid thrumming of his heart against her ear—a beat whose rhythm, like the tender words of a mother, offered solace to a broken heart. Her fear dissolved in the face of the man’s pure and evident grief. She lifted her shaking hands, clutched at his clothes, and in that heavy silence, allowed herself to rest in the chill of the embrace of that dangerous man.
Pouria_Zarrinpar · 4.4k Views