Twisted

"I must be losing my mind," Min Suhyun muttered, struggling to grasp the unsettling reality that unfolded before her. How had she ended up here? In the realm of clichéd stories, such a trope typically befell the deceased, not someone who had merely skimmed through old drafts. And yet, here she was, trapped in the body of an insignificant extra named Serein Rowe. The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning, raising questions she couldn't easily dismiss. ‘This can't be another one of my lucid dreams... Is this some twisted cosmic joke?’ she pondered, her mind reeling with the absurdity of her situation. Nevertheless, given that she could barely do anything to return to her world, she might as well seize this opportunity to finally finish what she had started, right? Living here and continuing until the end of this draft, she could create a good ending, '—though maybe it won't be as easy…?' Surviving as a side character suffering from a curse-like chronic illness? That would undoubtedly be a struggle. Now, that would undoubtedly pose a challenge, although it’s still a better fate than dying early, serving only as a trigger for the story's advancement. Min Suhyun contemplated for a moment before firmly resolving to a single objective: To survive until the very end.

"Step away. She's mine." Eric’s voice was calm but firm, his smirk barely concealed. The man in front of him scoffed. "And what about her?" He pointed at another woman. Eric chuckled, unfazed. "Also mine." The man’s face twisted in disbelief. "And… her too?" Eric nodded casually. "What can I say? A king doesn’t turn away his queens." Frustrated, the other man threw his hands in the air. "How many women do you even need?!" Eric grinned, tilting his head slightly. "As long as beauty exists, they will always belong to me." --- Life had always been cruel. Fired from his job over a ridiculous reason. Dumped by his girlfriend for being broke. Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, a drunk driver sent him flying. Most would call it the end. For Eric Carter, it was just the beginning. [Ding! Activation requirements met. System initializing…] [Welcome to the Royal Harem System—Dedicated to building the greatest harem in history.] A slow, confident smirk stretched across Eric’s lips as he cracked his knuckles. "From today onward, I, Eric Carter, will be the undisputed Harem King." He straightened his posture, radiating newfound confidence. "Excuse me, miss. You're breathtaking. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

As the King of Death in his previous life, Ainz Dorak was a formidable and fearsome ruler. He commanded an army of dark and terrifying creatures, instilling fear and awe in all who crossed his path. His power was unmatched, his reign absolute in the underworld. Despite his immense power and influence, Ainz Dorak could not escape the treachery and betrayal that ultimately led to his downfall. His enemies conspired against him, and so, he met his end, his power and glory fading into memory, so he thought, but something else happened at the point where he thought he had lost everything. Ainz suddenly woke up in a different place, another world to be precise, a world as cruel and twisted, and similar to his previous world, yet different. In this world, Ainz was rebirthed as an abandoned child of a noble, where he learns of the cruel fate of his reality. However, by chance, he was reincarnated with a system; The Shadow Monarch System, through the system, he lives the life of a Shadow Halfing turned Monarch, while making power his only reason for living. Following the path that has been laid out for him through the system, he would pave his path with his army of dark and terrifying creatures, as he snatched the lives of his enemies until he was once again called the king of death. ----------- [Congratulations! You have accepted Mark of the Shadows!] [You now bear a faint scent of Shadow!] [Shadows now recognizes you as their own!]

Mark Sanders worked his fingers to the bone as a freelance construction project manager. Every day felt like an uphill battle as he tried to grow his business while dealing with the cold stares and cutting remarks from Richard, his wealthy father-in-law. Initially, Lisa stood by Mark, believing in his dreams. However, as their unpaid bills mounted and their bank account shrank, she began to distance herself from him. Richard never hid his disgust, always making Mark feel like dirt beneath his polished shoes. The dragon tattoo on Mark's shoulder—a reminder of his carefree college days—became his only link to a time when hope burned bright in his chest. Mark's life fell apart when Lisa walked out. Her goodbye came with a shocking revelation that she and her father had been plotting against him for months. She falsely accused him of gambling away their savings and mishandling their money. Within days, police showed up at his door. The charges? He never committed. Richard's connections twisted the justice system like clay in his hands. Mark sat helpless as a sham trial tore his reputation to shreds. From his seat in the courtroom, he watched Lisa hiding behind her father, her eyes never meeting his as the judge sentenced him to prison.

In a world ravaged by the malevolent touch of the God of Demons, Mazoku, a planet teeters on the precipice of annihilation. The once-solid barriers between the human realm and the dreaded demon realm lie shattered, plunging the world into chaos. Nature's laws have become twisted, and an unending war rages among the four kingdoms since time immemorial. The undeniable truth emerges— the world is hurtling towards its demise. Yet, amidst the relentless torment wrought by a colossal sword forged by the very hands of the God of Demons, a faint glimmer of hope persists. This formidable weapon, driven into the heart of the planet, paradoxically presents a solitary chance for salvation. Once every three millennia, the Night of Fate descends, shrouding the land in an otherworldly aura. Those who find themselves slumbering beside the accursed sword on this fateful night are transported to a realm unknown—the "World's Fury Realm." Within this enigmatic domain, these chosen souls are burdened with a profound quest: to undertake a series of arduous missions, each with the potential to mend the shattered world. Success bears a promise as poignant as it is uplifting—those hailing from the human realm will be whisked back, their planet’s wounds finally sutured. A glimmer of hope beckons, for a path to restoration is laid before them. However, the road to redemption is fraught with peril, as failure yields a fate far bleaker than one could fathom. Those unable to rise to the challenge find themselves imprisoned within the very realm they sought to conquer—the World’s Fury Realm. In this desolate expanse, destruction and agony reign supreme, unending torment that only death can bring respite from.

A million years have passed since the war that shattered the harmony of Caelestia—the once-divine realm that shimmered with eternal light. The Divinomachy. It began with a betrayal. One of the Supreme Emperor’s most powerful and revered archangels, corrupted by pride, jealousy and ambition, raised his blade against his Creator. His defiance was swift and infectious—many of the Emperor’s faithful servants followed him, seduced by whispers of freedom, power, and a new order. Thus ignited a celestial war — Divinomachy. For one hundred years, the heavens trembled under the weight of clashing divinities. Brother turned against brother. Skies once filled with song now roared with the cries of battle. At last, the Supreme Emperor, weary of endless bloodshed, brought the war to a bitter close. With a divine curse, he cast down the traitors into a prison realm he created—Phlegethon and sealed their leader—while some escaped. Their punishment was eternal. Once-angelic beings were twisted into demons. Their silver skin blackened and grew scales. Their radiant wings darkened into shadows, and crimson replaced their once pure silver eyes. Even their hands bore the mark of damnation—silver claws sprouting where gentle fingers had once been. And when the fallen archangel was finally struck down, a prophecy echoed across the universe—spoken through the Emperor’s oracle: “When the stars realign and the seal weakens, the fallen one shall rise again. But from the forbidden love of both light and darkness shall be born a child—a hybrid. He shall end what the traitor had begun.” Though Caelestia was rebuilt, its wounds never fully healed. For prophecy does not forget, and the chains that bind the fallen grow weaker with every passing age. The ones who escaped hid themselves across the universe, patiently waiting for the return of their master.

Max stepped forward, his heart racing as he searched the man’s face, looking for some resemblance, some hint of familiarity. “Who… who are you?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. The man studied him for a moment before responding, his voice thick with emotion. “I am Reginald Reid, your grandfather.” The words hit Max like a thunderbolt. “Grandfather?” he echoed, his mind racing. He had never imagined he had a family, much less one of such prominence. Reginald nodded, his gaze filled with a mixture of pride and regret. “Yes, Max. You are my grandson, and the last direct heir of the Reid family.” Max stepped forward, his heart racing as he searched the man’s face, looking for some resemblance, some hint of familiarity. “Who… who are you?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. The man studied him for a moment before responding, his voice thick with emotion. “I am Reginald Reid, your grandfather.” The words hit Max like a thunderbolt. “Grandfather?” he echoed, his mind racing. He had never imagined he had a family, much less one of such prominence. Reginald nodded, his gaze filled with a mixture of pride and regret. “Yes, Max. You are my grandson, and the last direct heir of the Reid family.” Max’s mind swirled with confusion. “But… why didn’t I know? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” A flicker of pain crossed Reginald’s face. “There were… complicated reasons. When your parents passed away under tragic circumstances, it was decided that you should be raised away from the family, for your own safety. It was not an easy choice, but it was necessary.” Max’s heart twisted at the mention of his parents. He’d spent his end of the year

“Sarah!” Robin’s voice cracked, raw with betrayal. “After everything I did for you? The bone marrow donation—” Sarah rolled her eyes dramatically, her laughter sharp and dismissive. “Oh, please. Did you really think I cared about you? You were just… convenient.” Marcus moved to stand beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders. “Tell him about the face you made when he thought you actually liked him back. That story kills at parties.” The laughter between them burned through Robin’s veins. Every memory of their time together—every smile, every touch, every whispered promise—twisted into something ugly and false. “You used me…” Robin whispered, the truth finally sinking in. Sarah tilted her head, her expression cold and mocking. “Obviously. Let me spell it out for you, since you’re too dense to get it.” She stepped closer, her voice dripping with contempt. "I only kept you around because your bone marrow matched mine. Now that I'm cured, you're about as useful as yesterday's garbage. But look on the bright side – at least some part of you turned out to be useful. More than we can say for the rest!" After donating his bone marrow to save Sarah's life, Robin discovers their relationship was nothing but a cruel joke. Beaten and left for dead in a kennel of vicious guard dogs, his mysterious family ring suddenly activates, revealing his true heritage as heir to America's most powerful shadow organization! With supernatural abilities and unimaginable wealth as Eagle Industries' new CEO, Robin would show them what happens when you mistake kindness for weakness. After all, when you've been treated like a dog, sometimes you have to bare your fangs to survive!

Silence. Like a nice bucket of shhhhhhhhh. Everyone shut the effing fudge UP! That's all I've ever wanted. *Sigh.* But silence comes in different flavors. There's mint - the peaceful kind that wraps around you like a blanket. The kind I chase at 2 AM. I've cried once. Just once. With a bucket beside me, watching heroes with super suits and impossible strength tear each other apart. Somehow that feels less broken than my reality. Then there's the suffocating silence at school. Not an ice cream flavor. This one tastes like metal and shame. High school is my personal hell. Empty wallet, empty lunch tray, empty seat beside me like I'm radioactive. Empty soul on Wednesdays because middles are always the worst. *The usual.* But Emily made the silence bearable. Mint-flavored again. Until she broke something between us. *Snap.* One moment she's whispering secrets with me, the next she's weaponizing them. She scattered my private thoughts, added her own twisted lies. The betrayal burns hotter than the stares drilling into my back. I went from invisible to spectacle. Being a ghost feels like luxury when you're dodging spit balls and "accidental" lunch trays. But somewhere between my third panic attack and contemplating switching schools... *Something shifted.* Like in those games you play, when your character suddenly glows and the screen flashes: "New Skill Unlocked" And it wasn't just in my head. I tested it. Small things at first – a pencil moving across my desk when I focused hard enough. Then books. Then someone's lunch tray right as they walked past Emily. *tap tap tap* I used to think rock bottom was the end. *Well ladies and gentlemen,* it's just a really messed up spawn point. And now? I don't stumble from cliffs anymore. I swim in gravity, and dive head first.