Weight Loss

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.

Jackson found no words to respond; he remained silent, holding the divorce papers. He felt numb, detached from the world around him. His wife's words and actions had left him shattered, unable to believe that their relationship had abruptly ended with no chance for reconciliation. As he stared at the divorce papers thrown in his face, he felt a sense of finality and loss engulfing him. He could only blame himself for everything that had happened – if he had been honest with his wife about his situation, perhaps things would have taken a different turn. Walking down the street lost in his thoughts, he heard his phone ring. Initially, he didn't want to answer; he wasn't in the mood to receive more bad news. But something in his gut told him to take the call. "Hello?" he answered reluctantly. "Young sir! Your grandfather informed me to contact you. 100,000,000 has been deposited into your account, and tomorrow your exile period will end. You'll regain control of your company, and the family is coming to welcome you back," the voice on the other end explained. Checking his phone, he indeed saw the deposited amount. Everything was falling back into place. Jackson replied hesitantly, "Tomorrow, I'll turn twenty-five." His mind returned to his old life in the palace and prestigious companies, where he was a rising star before being suddenly banished. He had always wondered when he would return. The voice from the phone continued, "Young sir! Your exile period has ended, and your companies are ready to welcome you back with open arms. We need you, Jackson – you are the heir to our companies, and we cannot do without you."

I remember the day everything burned like a wound that would never heal. Flames stole my family — my parents were ripped from me, my little brothers and sisters turned to ash — all because debts bled our name dry. They came in the night with torches and cold mouths, set our home alight, and watched the world I knew collapse into smoke. When I thought the world had taken its last piece of me, something — someone — stepped through the blaze. I could not tell if it was man or woman; the fire kept the savior's shape blurred and holy, as if the flames themselves had given birth to a protector. They pulled me from the ruin and vanished like a promise. For seven years I answered a different kind of fire. I joined the army and let the drill and the discipline burn the broken parts clean. My hands learned steel. My bones learned marching. My nights learned keeping watch. I learned how to turn pain into armor, sorrow into strategy. I was forged in training fields and battle lines until a new name fit me. I am Kaelor Thane now — not a child who once cried over ash, but a force that arrives on the war road without apology. They called me the God of War because I learned to move like thunder and strike like winter. I carry no mercy in my pocket; I carry only the weight of a debt to be settled. Those who think they can stand between me and what I owe will learn the hard truth: I do not forgive. I do not forget. I return to make the ledger even, and I will make them pay in ruin, pain, and a silence that remembers my name.

Kaelan Voss spent his life as a beta tester for Elysian Rift, the VRMMORPG (Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game). He was unremarkable, forgettable, and stuck in the tutorial zones. When the game's servers shut down for good, he felt a strange pang of loss as if a part of him died with the final boss, Morvath the Silent Crown. Then the sky cracked open. The Akashic Interface initialized. The fantasy world of Elysian Rift bled into reality. Subways became monster nests. Office buildings transformed into death traps. 90% of the population was wiped out in the first 72 hours. Kaelan should have been a statistic. But the moment the System scanned his soul, something broke. It recognized him not as Kaelan Voss, the F-Rank human, but as Legacy Entity #0001 the echo of the Fallen King. Kaelan awakens with two memories: his own mundane life, and the eternity of a God who ruled before being deleted. Now, armed with the [Echoes of the Fallen] passive skill, he can hear the attack patterns of monsters before they move. He knows the location of every hidden treasure, every secret passage, and every boss's fatal weakness because he created them. But there's a catch: his human body is pathetically weak. If anyone discovers his true identity, the System will flag him as a "Glitched Entity" and send every Hero-Class Awakened on Earth to eliminate him. To survive, Kaelan must do the unthinkable: play the role of the weakest man alive while secretly conquering the apocalypse from the shadows. He will reclaim his royal class. He will find out why the System brought his world to Earth. And when the "Heroes" who killed him in the game finally arrive in reality, he will show them what happens when a Final Boss gets a second life.

"Mr. Verus,” she said, “the surgery has already been paid for.” Cassius blinked, stunned. “What? By who?” Before the nurse could respond, a tall, imposing figure appeared. The man was impeccably dressed, his presence commanding attention. “I paid for it,” the man said, his deep voice resonating in the sterile corridor. Cassius stood, his body tense. “Who are you?” The man smiled faintly, extending a hand. “Augustus Verus,” he said. “Your father.” Shock coursed through Cassius. “My father?” he echoed, incredulous. “That’s impossible.” “It’s the truth,” Augustus said, pulling out a neatly folded envelope. Inside were photographs, documents—proof of their connection. “I’ve been watching from a distance, waiting for the right moment to step in. And now, it’s time.” Cassius stared at the evidence, his emotions a whirlwind of disbelief, anger, and curiosity. “Why now? Why not before?” Augustus met his gaze steadily. “Because you had to face life’s hardships to grow. But now, you’ve earned the right to know the truth—and the power to change your fate.” He handed Cassius a sleek black card. “This is yours. It grants you access to my wealth. Use it wisely.” Cassius hesitated before taking the card, his fingers trembling. The weight of everything that had happened—his humiliation, his sister’s injury, and now this revelation—threatened to overwhelm him. But as he looked at Augustus, determination flickered in his eyes. “I’ll use this,” he said quietly, “to protect Vinna—and to repay everyone who looked down on me.” Augustus nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Then I trust you won’t disappoint me, son.” Cassius watched as Augustus walked away, leaving him standing in the sterile hallway, a man reborn."

For eight years, Adrian was invisible on purpose. He was the husband nobody introduced at parties. The man Brenna hid from every important room, every powerful table, every conversation that mattered. He cooked the meals. He raised their daughter alone in every way that counted. He absorbed the insults, the mockery, the quiet humiliation of being called useless in his own home — and he never said a word to defend himself. That was never weakness. That was patience. Then, on the one night Brenna finally pushed too far — smashing plates, screaming that he and his daughter were nothing but dead weight dragging her down — Adrian didn't beg. He simply signed the divorce papers, asked for nothing but his little girl, and made one phone call he hadn't made in years. By morning, hundred luxury cars line the street outside his door. Grown men who run empires drop to their knees in front of him, calling him "master." A family more powerful than anyone Brenna has ever met has been waiting years — just for him to come home. Now the same people who mocked Adrian at galas and hotel lobbies are about to watch their world collapse in real time: contracts cancelled, reputations shattered, careers ended, all in the space of one single day. He doesn't have to raise his voice. He doesn't have to lift a hand. He simply has to exist in the room, and everyone who ever underestimated him will do the rest. Adrian was never the broke, forgotten husband they laughed about behind his back. He was the man an entire city had been quietly waiting to bow to — and he's done staying quiet. They spent eight years underestimating a king. Now it's his turn to remind them exactly who he is.

"I regret the day I met you. I regret foolishly giving love a chance for the first time." Emily’s words pierced the air, heavy with regret and heartache. Her voice trembled as she uttered each syllable, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. But Alex stood before her, his own heart aching at the sight of her pain. He longed to comfort her, but the weight of his own decisions held him back. **** Alex was a billionaire and independent man who lived a life of fulfilment but was marred only by the suffocating grip of his parents. Just like a dog on a leach, he always did as they wished, whether he was good with it or not. He despised women and perceived them all as serpents in designer dresses. His parents arranged a marriage devoid of love with him and a fellow billionaire's daughter, Isabella, which he reluctantly agreed to. Since he had no affection for her, they lived in his house like cats and rats, with no intimacy between them. However, meeting Emily challenged his negative view of women and made him want to marry her, as they became drawn to each other like a magnet. He was willing and determined to marry Emily instead of Isabella, especially after she revealed she was carrying his child. Isabella harboured a hidden agenda far more intricate than mere unrequited love. As Alex's heart turned to Emily, she unleashed deadly plots, determined to retain her place in Alex's heart, even if it meant silencing her rival permanently. Will Alex break free from his condescending parents to choose his own future? Can Emily survive Isabella's wrath and plots? Since only a woman would emerge victorious in winning his heart, who would it be and at what cost?