Take The First Step
Author: Cindy Chen
last update2024-09-23 18:21:30

Calvin ate voraciously, his movements quick and steady as he shoveled food into his mouth, barely taking the time to chew before swallowing. He seemed to be trying to fill a void that had been empty for far too long, his body craving sustenance after three days of near starvation. Lizzie watched with a mixture of amusement and concern, her eyes flickering over the emptying plates in front of him.

“Calvin, slow down,” she said softly, her voice carrying both affection and worry. “You’re going to choke if you keep eating like that.”

Calvin glanced up briefly, his mouth still full, and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t choke,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food. “I’m fine, Lizzie. Just… really hungry.”

Lizzie sighed, shaking her head as she watched him devour everything in sight. She had made enough food to last him a couple of days, but it was disappearing rapidly. He moved from one dish to another with a relentless focus, like a man possessed. Despite her initial amu
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  • The Blade and the Blood

    [System Alert: Critical Threat Detected.][Warning: Recovery protocol compromised. Healing rate slowed by 73%. Cause: User’s energy reserves critically depleted.]A sharp chime echoed through Calvin’s mind—a cold, metallic sound that felt like a countdown toward death.He winced.Every breath dragged fire through his ribs. His body was still trying to seal the stab wound from earlier, but the process had stalled. The magical serum, the regenerative field, even the emergency stasis infusion—it wasn’t enough.He was running on fumes.His vision wavered.Then… the fog parted.A silhouette emerged from the mist, slow and deliberate—like a predator savoring the moment before the pounce. The man wore a new mask now—another face, another false identity molded perfectly to hide the truth beneath. But Calvin recognized the posture, the gait, the glint of steel-ready motion in his every step

  • Cracks in the Barrier

    The wind howled across the open sea, salty and sharp, as waves lapped against the side of the ferry like restless whispers. Calvin stood near the edge of the deck, his coat flapping violently in the ocean breeze. Below him, the shimmer of magical energy pulsed across the horizon—an invisible dome stretching over Barrion’s entire coastline, a brilliant ward born of blood, focus, and raw willpower.He exhaled slowly, pressing both palms forward. A stream of blue-gold light spiraled from his hands into the air, fusing with the weakened edges of the barrier. The energy rippled like a living skin, mending, hardening, reinforcing. Every few seconds, a faint tremor raced up his arms—feedback from each stress point in the shield.[System Alert: Barrier core stabilization at 61%. Energy output sustained at high cost.][Warning: Host’s mana levels depleted by 72%. Physical exhaustion approaching critical threshold.][Recom

  • The Siege of Light

    The war drums of Han Xin fell silent.At least, for now.President Lee reclined in his obsidian chair, fingers tapping against the carved armrest in measured fury. His eyes, dark and sunken, flicked to the man standing before him—the same shadow-cloaked assassin who had failed him once, and nearly paid for it with his life.“I want results,” Lee said coldly. “Not sparks in the sky. You saw what he did. His city swallowed our entire attack without a scratch. If we strike again and fail—”“We won’t fail,” the assassin interrupted, voice like steel dragged across stone.Lee’s lip curled, but he didn’t stop him.The assassin stepped forward, a scroll unfurling from his gloved hand—etched with diagrams, magical runes, and patterns of sigil energy. “I’ve studied it. That barrier Calvin summoned—it’s not divine. It’s not perfect. It’s magic,

  • The Unseen Shield

    From the eastern skies, President Lee’s fleet approached like a swarm of metal-winged locusts. The engines of his stealth bombers hummed like low thunder, slicing through the air with lethal precision. Beneath their sleek, armored hulls, payloads of aether-fused explosives sat primed—each one designed to level a city block.“Target locked,” one of the pilots announced. “Coordinates confirmed—Sector Theta, Barrion's sacred grounds.”The command relayed through static-laced comms: “Release on my mark. Three… two… one—drop!”A series of muffled clicks echoed across the fleet as the bomb bays opened. Missiles plummeted like silver spears, hissing through the air in perfect formation.And then—Nothing.No impact. No eruption. No explosion.Instead, a faint shimmer rippled in the atmosphere, like heatwaves dancing over sunbaked stone. The bombs struck something

  • Shadows Over a Blooming Land

    Barrion had risen from ashes.Once scarred by war and crumbling under economic decay, the city now gleamed like a gem reborn. Its stone streets had been repaved with intricate brickwork, lanterns lighting every path at dusk with soft golden hues. New marketplaces bustled with color and life—barrels of citrus fruit, woven baskets of rice and millet, exotic silks from western traders fluttering like banners in the wind.The countryside thrived too. Fields once left fallow now shimmered with gold and green—wheat swaying in the breeze, canals brimming with clean water. The farmers who had once despaired were now singing in unison during harvest, carts overflowing. Children ran barefoot through open fields, their laughter carrying across the hills. Barrion’s ports, once empty and rusted, now thrived with trade, ships from distant lands anchoring beside local vessels, exchanging spices, medicine, and knowledge.It was a miracle.And Calvin Hudson had helped spark it.Standing atop the balco

  • The Master's Chain and the Father's Lie

    The stench of mildew and rust saturated the air in the underground warehouse, thick enough to taste. It clung to the tongue like copper and dust. In one forgotten corner, slumped against a wall of crumbling stone, the mysterious man trembled.Blood stained his lips. His left eye was swollen shut. Every breath came jagged and shallow, and he was almost certain several of his ribs had cracked beneath the brutal heel of President Lee’s boot. His hands, usually so precise and deadly, now hung limp at his sides—scraped, bruised, and shackled by shame.He could have killed Lee. Easily. Before the tyrant raised his voice, before the first blow landed—he could’ve ended it. One strike to the jugular. A twist of bone. Silence.But he hadn’t.Because a shadow assassin does not bite the hand that owns his leash.Even now, curled in agony, his master’s voice echoed like a curse inside his skull.“You are a weapon,” the voice of his old mentor had once said, “and weapons do not choose their targets

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