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Four Split Personalities

Battling an unusual form of personality dissociation, Motan admits to feeling the weight of immense pressure bearing down on him. Amidst this turmoil, he finds solace in a virtual escape called "The Realm of Innocence," a game that has become his sanctuary from stress. In the realm where ambiguity reigns, Motan's behavior is unpredictable and impetuous, making him the instigator and mastermind behind myriad events that spiral out of control. Yet, within the sphere of virtue, his resilience and courage shine through, earning him the admiration of many who see him as the epitome of a righteous knight and a fair judge. When dwelling in the balance of absolute neutrality, he adopts a demeanor of modesty and lethargy, mirroring the ordinary essence of every soul. Conversely, in the domain of chaotic evil, he transforms into a figure of madness and cruelty, embodying the very essence of a demon and deceiver, showing kindness only to himself. "Tan Mo is the most extraordinary Bard I have ever encountered, though he is... perplexing, to say the least," comments Countess Leisha, reflecting on his complex nature. "Mor is a man of distinguished integrity! Having met him just once, I am convinced that he is someone one can confidently turn their back to," declares Gwen, the leader of the Rose Rot, acknowledging his noble character. "If you're in search of the ideal neighbor, look no further than Hei Fan," recommends Alchemist Luna, suggesting his suitability for companionship. Yet, amidst these varied testimonies, a warning resonates, "Don't talk about that man!" indicating a mysterious, perhaps darker aspect of his persona that remains unexplored.
Micro-leaf Paulownia · 525.9k Views

Fate/Null Paradox

(Note: Chapter 1 has 4k words and will have heavy lore drops and a more technical Fate knowledge. The subsequent chapters will return to a more standard 1 to 2k words.) He died with a laptop open to a Fate/Stay Night wiki. That is, in retrospect, the only extraordinary thing about him. A twenty-six-year-old who had spent too many hours tracing the branch logic of the Fifth Holy Grail War across forum threads and translated visual novel transcripts, who had memorized the spiritual genealogies of seven Heroic Spirits and the exact sequence of decisions that led each Master to ruin. He was not a genius. He was not chosen. He was thorough, and then he was dead, and then — after an interval he could neither measure nor describe — he was lying face-down in a Fuyuki alleyway that smelled precisely like the Shinto district descriptions in Nasu's prose notes. He does not consider this a gift. His name, in this life, is Kōda Haruki. He is twenty-one years old, a second-year student in Fuyuki City with a fringe Circuit count that places him at the absolute bottom rung of the Mage's Association's unofficial taxonomy — talented enough to be considered a resource, too weak to be considered a threat. He has spent three years quietly, methodically building his craft with the patience of a man who knows that magecraft is not power, it is surgery performed on the world with instruments made of your own nervous tissue. He has pushed his body to its limit reinforcing himself with Od, has learned what it means to mistranslate a formula by a single syllable and wake up three days later with one fewer finger's worth of sensitivity in his left hand. He carries that lesson with him like all the others — in scar tissue. He knows what is coming. He has known since he woke up in this world. The Fifth Holy Grail War. Fuyuki. Seven Masters, seven Servants, a bounded field draped over a city like a funeral shroud, and at the center of it all, a wish-granting mechanism steeped in two hundred years of accumulated corruption that the people trying to use it have the audacity to call holy. He has a plan. He has contingencies for his contingencies. He knows which Servants will be summoned, which Masters are dangerous, which alliances are viable, and — crucially — which paths lead to which endings. He has the script. All he has to do is survive long enough to read it. The summoning ritual goes wrong on the fourteenth syllable.
OkLuv · 2.2k Views