myth

Anthony has always been a coward. And his greatest fear was ghosts, mythical creatures that were always his grandmother's means of scaring him. Just to get him home early when he was a kid. Growing up with stories that makes him cower in fear during late night trips to the toilet. Now? He is now facing the greatest nightmare he could have imagined. [SYSTEM ACTIVATED. THE DARKNESS HAS STARTED SPRAWLING THE WORLD.] It was both exhilarating and dreadful having to own a system out of nowhere. "Putang ina! Why do I have a system? I thought it only works in other countries. Not here in my country!" [OPENING THIRD EYE. PROGRESSING....] "I'm dead...."

There is a world where nothing is fixed. Not the laws. Not the names. Not the boundaries between one thing and another. In this world, gravity is a suggestion. Death is a mood. The colour blue can be redefined by anyone who has the will and a sharp enough imagination. A man can die on a Thursday, and by Friday his widow can decide that "death" now means "a long walk in a garden that has no gate," and he will return to finish the soup she left on the stove. A child can decide that "school" means "a cloud that only rains on weekends," and the building will float away until Monday, carrying the teachers with it, and no one will ask questions because questions themselves can be redefined as answers that have not yet decided what they know. Everyone redefines reality as easily as breathing. The rich change themselves daily—new face, new past, new gravity. The poor cling to a handful of stable definitions just to remember who they were when they woke up. Cities rename themselves every hour by public vote. Wars are fought not with weapons but with dictionaries. The Anti-Semantic War, they say, ended when one side redefined "victory" to mean "surrender," and by the time anyone noticed, it was already history. This is not paradise. When everything can be rewritten, nothing is ever fully real. A promise made today dissolves tomorrow when "tomorrow" is redefined as "a shape that cannot fit promises." Love is exhausting because the word changes taste every afternoon. Truth is a fashion. Memory is guesswork. And somewhere beneath all this, a question sleeps that no one dares wake: If everything can be redefined, what is the definition of definition itself? Cindral had never trusted a world that could change its memories. When the past was rewritten as casually as the weather, what was a man but a rumour his own history could no longer confirm? He did not seek power. He did not want to reshape the rules. He wanted to know if there was any rule that did not answer to a vote. So when word reached him of an old vendor in the secondhand markets selling definitions too ancient to be altered, Cindral went. Not from ambition. From hunger—for something that would still be true tomorrow. The answer waits in a dusty corner of that market, where a vendor whose age shifts with the minute hand sells used definitions discarded by those who have moved on to newer models. Cindral will touch the one definition that was never meant to be touched: the definition of definition itself. That touch will reveal the thread. The thread runs through everything. It ties every word to every thing, every thing to every mind, every mind to every story, and every story to something above. Cindral will follow it upward through layers of narration that make his universe look like a footnote in a book no one remembers writing. He will climb until climbing breaks. He will define until definition breaks. He will be until being breaks. What waits at the end cannot be called a god, because gods require names, and names require someone to speak them. What waits predates the need to be named. And it is not the top. There is no top. The thread does not end; it only changes direction—cutting sideways through hierarchies, through echoes without a source, through hollows where silence is not empty but full of the absence of sound waiting to be born. This is the story of that climb. It begins in a world where anyone can rewrite the rules, and it ends where the word "rule" has never been spoken, never been needed, never been possible. Somewhere in between, a man discovers that he is a sentence inside a story inside a dream inside a definition that defines itself. The thread is already in your hand. Cindral's ascent begins now.

Arthur Moreau disappeared during a live broadcast. No warning. No transition. No last words. One moment he was finishing a world event in front of fifty thousand viewers. The next, he was gone, and what arrived somewhere else was Gepetto: his character, his creation, the most feared Marionettist ever built in a game where power was the only language that mattered. The world that caught him is not new to collapse. Gods have existed here, and some of them have died. What stands now is only the latest arrangement of a cycle that never needed him. Elysion is a Republic in the way that a cracked foundation is still a building. The institutions function. The titles exist. But beneath the gas lamps and the steam columns and the elevated rails connecting district to district, the actual structure is simpler: those with enough power do what they want, and everyone else absorbs the cost. The working class breathes chemical residue and calls it employment. The middle class negotiates in a market that has stopped rewarding negotiation, trains for credentials that no longer open doors, and moves forward because stopping is worse. There is no king here. There are only people with enough accumulated weight to act as though the question of permission does not apply to them. The Church of the Solar God holds the whole thing together, which is not a metaphor. A population that does not share language, origin, or history requires something to organize around, and the Church understood this long before anyone thought to ask. The Solar God is not a symbol. He walks. He acts. He has reasons of his own. And now, Players have begun to appear. Not as heroes. Not as chosen figures. As variables carrying power without understanding the system they have entered. The world does not pause for them. It absorbs them, bends around them, and continues. Gepetto does not try to fight it. He studies it. While others assert themselves through force, faith, or the assumption that visibility equals strength, he builds something quieter. Not an army. Not a faction. A structure: distributed, patient, invisible until it is not. A web that does not need to be seen to function. The skills are real now. The strings are real. And what they touch does not reset. House of Puppets is a story about control, belief, and the cost of acting in a world indifferent to your intentions. It follows a man who does not seek to win, but to understand the rules well enough that losing becomes unlikely. Because the puppeteer pulls the strings. But in a world this old, someone is always watching. A word from the author: House of Puppets is built closer to a novel than a webnovel: each chapter accumulates, each arc tightens, and the end of every Volume is the destination of everything that came before it. The structure rewards patience. Tension builds and does not release until it is meant to. The ambition is simple to say and hard to earn: one day, a place among the works that defined what this genre can be. Lord of Mysteries, Reverend Insanity, ORV, Shadow Slave. I cannot promise we get there. I can promise I will give everything trying.

Throughout the world, many young people dream of adventures spanning thousands of miles; however, after the sea swallowed the land, many people lost their hope and dreams. On a small boat in the middle of unknown waters, a boy awakens with no memory of who he is or why he is at sea.

One man’s experiment was meant to save his world. Instead, it tore the heavens apart. Rayleigh Soloman was a man of cold equations and high-tech augmentations, a scientist fighting a losing war against the divine "Angels of Eden." When his perpetual energy project goes haywire, he isn't just killed—he’s displaced across time and dimensions. He wakes in a world where men chase immortality through "Cultivation," preaching of nebulous Heavenly Laws and spiritual enlightenment. To Soloman, it’s not magic; it’s just physics they haven't labeled yet. While others meditate on the "Will of the Dao," Soloman calculates the thermal output of their techniques. While they pray to the Heavens, he prepares to dissect them. In a land of immortals and spirits, the most dangerous power isn't Qi—it’s a scientist who knows how the universe actually works.

Humanity has entered an almost entirely digital age. After the turn of the 22nd century, games and entertainment have become something ordinary people may live on. The year is 2143, and a new VR game has entered the market. Not one that stands out in every conceivable way. Not one that breaks and reinvents the wheel of modern VRMMORPGS. What makes Aeternitatem Genesis unique is its gameplay. Most modern fantasy games circle around classes. But what makes a player stand out is their choices. The decisions and outcomes of a quest. This is what's in store for Aeternitatem Genesis. The achievements they garner in their time. A class and the grade it carries hold little weight, not the end all, and be all of a player's existence. Reputation with the inhabitants of Aeternitatem Genesis is integral to the progress and standing in one's time. It allows ordinary players. Ordinary people. Not the rich with unlimited resources and time. To become someone special in Aeternitatem Genesis. The story of such a person begins on the day of it's release. Releases are on Fridays & Saturdays

DEAR GHOST FRIENDS, Help me to grow by letting me know what you think about my poems. THE POET is my first poem collection book and this is where I have been purging my emotions in tenses for a decade. Every title defines reality, every stanza traces back to spirituality, and every line bears my joy, my pains, and tribulations.

Heroic Songs In Chaos World Author: sampatin Genre: Fantasy, Military, Bureaucracy, Warfare, Dark Themes, Otherworldly This story draws inspiration from history, as narrated through the author's unique perspective. It blends creativity with historical elements, intertwining fact and fiction. While some aspects closely resemble real historical events, others diverge significantly. The characters, locations, relationships, and events are a fusion of reality and imagination. Some may have historical counterparts, while others are entirely fictional. Readers should not consider this novel an official historical chronicle. The world holds countless bitter sorrows But none more bitter than losing freedom. Prologue He devotes himself to love, and sacrifices for righteousness. The downfall of the nation and the people's loss of identity are obsessions for one who forgets grudges, and dedicates himself fully to the people. He dedicates his life to the nation, aspiring for his people, lives for love, and dies for righteousness. A peaceful nation and joyful people are the aspirations of one who regards the nation as everything. He charged into the flames of war like a moth drawn to fire, hazarding his life for freedom. To fight to the death for deliverance was the obligation of one who lived for his loved ones and was willing to die for his family. He repays kindness and avenges grievances. He survives because of hatred, bleeds for love, and fights to the death for vengeance. His lifelong creed is the fixation that blood debts must be repaid in blood. He exists for familial ties and endures humiliation to avenge his family. Blood dyes deep-seated hatred, and his life is devoted to a dream. It is the life of one imprisoned in a cycle of hatred, marching side by side with fixation and yearning to transform a phantasmal vision into reality. He weeps for his family and sheds blood for his loved ones. He vows to live for love and die for righteousness. Blood washes away hatred, and a life dedicated to kinship is the purpose of one who sees family as their sole existence. He is the maker of thrones, the changer of dynasties. A powerful nation, its lands whole and unbroken, its people living in peace, soldiers and subjects united, and a lineage—close-knit and united—lasting for countless generations, imperishable for eternity. Such is the perfect world for those who believe that personal power cannot compare to the prosperity of lineage. He is a pillar of the realm, erasing discord for the land’s sake, quelling internal strife, repelling foreign aggressors, and safeguarding the emperor. With a lifetime of unwavering devotion, he upholds the bond between ruler and subjects. He unites the imperial lineage with commanders and warriors, and fosters harmony between commoners and the martial force to forge an army bonded like fathers and sons. Commanding formidable legions, he vanquishes invading foes, restores the capital, and brings peace and prosperity to the people. He is the one who connects two worlds, governs the throne, and cherishes talent as if it were life itself. With diplomacy that is both firm and flexible, and rigorous yet just internal governance, he dedicates himself to strengthening familial bonds. He alleviates burdens on the populace, and unites all ranks to safeguard the nation's fate. The eternal mountains and rivers, the people living in peace and prosperity, and the succession of enlightened and virtuous rulers—these are the hopes of one who bears the weight of the kingdom upon his shoulders. The people. The crossroads. Who will endure in pursuit of their dreams until the final moment of this grand saga of farewell and demise in an age of Heroic Songs in the World of Chaos?

A saga of gods, mortals, and the war against the End. When the old gods fade and new ones fracture, darkness finds its chance. Across forgotten villages and cursed lands, fractured faiths awaken—Slavic deities, Gods, angels, saints, witches, monks and hunters—each clinging to crumbling power as the Devil moves unseen. From broken forests to holy empires, scattered souls rise to resist the coming storm. Bound by fate, divided by belief, they must decide what to protect: their gods, their people… or something greater. Because in the end, when heaven falls and hell awakens— Only the last faith will stand.

“In an age where knowledge cuts deeper than knives, Victoria is about to learn far more than is safe for any soul to bear.” Victoria and Robert were torn from the gentle dullness of their ordinary century and cast into a realm governed by proto-concepts—those ancient, unblinking truths from which life, death, and divinity themselves are carved. Proclaimed “Heroes” by a world too desperate to question its own choices, they were commanded to rise in strength, confront a Demon Lord, and deliver salvation to a land that had never been theirs. Robert donned the mantle with the fervour of a man stepping into destiny. Victoria… hesitated. And in that hesitation, something old—older than scripture, older than light—turned its gaze toward her. She felt its attention like a draft through a locked room. In a moment poised between terror and terrible understanding, she accepted its offer: a contract sealed in silence, a year of her life exchanged for a thing that should never have been permitted to exist. Not in this world. Not in any. She did not yet grasp that, in straying from the Hero’s ordained path, she had not merely shifted her fate— she had begun to unwrite the very scaffolding of her humanity. Now Victoria walks like a phantom through a world that has marched on without her— one year behind the celebrated Hero, yet burdened with an insight so sharp it threatens to cut her free from mortality itself. She can now trespass upon knowledge forbidden to scholars, sorcerers, or even those who stand at the pinnacle of human mastery. She commits the kind of acts whispered only of beings who have stepped beyond the human threshold… and never returned. And in a world built on primordial, immovable truths, one truth endures: Knowledge is power. But power, when mishandled, becomes a curse that devours its bearer— quietly, inevitably, like rot beneath embroidered silk.

I inexplicably traveled through time and space and became Ares, the god of war in Greek mythology, but something seemed wrong with this world. "Ever since the Wandering Star Soldier shattered the original godhead, the world has been divided into several pieces..." "What is the Wandering Star Soldier? Can you please explain it more clearly?" "I have received a prophecy that in the future Zeus will be overthrown by a demigod named Kratos, and the Age of Gods will end..." ........................ This is a translation RAW 最苟战神阿瑞斯 ........................ For the advance chapter visit Patreon:- patreon.com/Stories_hub739 you can buy me a cup of cofee: https://www.paypal.me/UtkarshKumar96 Find your 5 free advanced chapters here: Omnicalctools.online

The life of an ordinary man transforms into a legend in another world a world filled with struggles for survival, where only the strongest live and their existence continues. The hero takes us on a journey to another fantastical world, one where we find strange creatures and events that are closer to fantasy than reality. The legend of Zeus returns once again, bringing with it many challenges for him and his descendants. Will he succeed in enduring them? This is what we will discover through the events of this novel.

The sins of man had been cleansed off the surface of the Earth, thrown into a different world to manifest into a realm of unmistakable evil, malevolence and certain death... That was what the regular humans thought. Those bestowed with the keys to enter this desecrated realm, knew there was more to it. It was a realm of countless realities, possibilities, laws and stories. And each time the bestowed, the Prophets step into this Realm, they would experience fables and transmigrate into brand new worlds, to conquer these stories, so that the bad ones don't manifest on Earth. A strange boy found no place on Earth, but was bestowed with a key to experience these countless words as a Prophet, so that he may try again to find where exactly he belonged. But that was not his only motivation for traversing this Realm of wonder and yet, extreme danger. He also does it to find a cure for his misfortune. For you see, although humans were made from clay, he was created from countless CURSES.

"Transported into the world of Greek mythology, Hades finds himself trapped within Cronus's stomach. Refusing to let his divine essence be suppressed, Hades uses his power of 'Underworld Wealth' to create a double. Taking advantage of the moment Cronus devours Poseidon, he uses the distraction to slip away unnoticed. Scarred by the experience, Hades vows that one day, he will 'repay' his father in full."

A man from modern Earth is reincarnated into baby Zeus. Arm with future knowledge of the Greek mythology even if it was little, it still covered major events in the world, he will make sure to be a better and more powerful version of the Sky Father.

Agung stands on the precipice of despair, facing a world that feels bland and broken. Once a mere school counselor, he is suddenly swept into a conflict between secret societies capable of the impossible, forcing him to question the true power of the human mind to reshape reality. As Agung begins to master these newfound powers and knowledge, Dimas and the Anamorphis group begin to catch a foul scent behind the mysterious disappearance of a group of hikers on Mount Arjuno. What they initially presumed to be a routine search mission instead leads them down a trail of ancient conspiracies that defy logic. It is a convergence of science and mysticism, poised to swallow them whole.

In a world ruled by powerful sects and hidden wars, fate moves in ways no one can see. Han Liang walks in shadows, bound by duty and secrets. Yuan Yu was born into power and expectation, raised in a world where status defines every step. Their meeting is brief. A single glance beneath falling blossoms. Yet something lingers. A quiet pull neither of them can explain. As tensions rise and hidden forces begin to stir, their paths continue to cross in ways that feel far from coincidence. In a world where loyalty is everything, some connections are more dangerous than open enemies. A slow-burn wuxia romance filled with sect intrigue, hidden dangers, and forbidden connection.

Animals that people once loved suddenly turned into magical beasts and turned the world upside down. With the mines destroyed and later occupied by magical beasts, humanity was starved of the resources needed to continue fighting them. Fortunately, beings from another world lent their power to humans in the form of avatars. Every human would awaken an avatar and use its power to grow stronger and fight against the beasts. Yet Auric found himself unable to awaken a single avatar. An avatar wasn’t supposed to leave the body of its partner, but his father’s avatar—the black dragon—mysteriously appeared before him, unraveling a series of secrets he had never known before. Did he really fail to awaken an avatar? What exactly was an avatar? Did they really come from another world?

After being betrayed by her lover for a relic, princess Lena of Moon Palace had no choice but to become a warrior for the heaven. After killing the 6th prince due to unforeseen circumstance, she tried to flee and the space rift got her to an unknown realm there she helped a young man who aids her in this helpless state. There she happens to find some traces of the stolen relic as she can feel it because she resonates with it, what would she do after that, what kind of twisted fate is to befall her.

In a world where summoners wield the power to call forth vampires, elves, angels, demons, and all humanoid creatures from across the realms, Nathan found himself unable to summon beings except from beasts.  However, those beasts are not ordinary beasts. They are divine beings who once stood at the same level, if not higher, than the legendary creatures the world ever knew.  Casting his gaze to the left, Nathan sees numerous summoners accompanied by the likes of demon kings, archangels, vampire progenitors, and other legendary beings. Turning to the right, a massive army of alien symbiotes is waiting to attack.  There was no fear in his eyes, because standing on his left is a majestic wolf who managed to kill a god, the legendary eight-headed serpent coils on his right, above him is the bird who is glowing like the sun, and behind him is a dragon that once gnawed the roots of the world tree.  “Let the war begin.”