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Shadow of the Abyss

The Old Gods are gone. Lost and Forgotten, their honor shattered and their kingdoms broken by treachery. The Peace of the Myriad Heavens has been severed. And from the ashes of war and chaos, the Twin Towers of Babel have been created as a beacon of hope. Can Altair, a child born of the Old Gods whose name has long since been forgotten, survive, or will he be cast into the Nine Hells? *** "So..." Arsene continued, enjoying his child's flush expression. "I've got a few things to teach you. What I'm about to give you is some peak wisdom. Think of it as my Ten Commandments: One, never trust a bitch with red hair. Trust me on this. Two, the pull-out game is not a real thing. She will get pregnant. Three—" "F-Father…" " —Never get yourself more than one wife. It sounds fun. It is fun. But it's truly a nightmare. You better be writing this stuff down. This is some grade-A wisdom right here. Four. "...Please stop talking…" The Prince pleaded. "Shhhhh. Just let this happen. Four…Bro's before hoes isn't a thing. The hoes come first. Remember, Booty is more important than Wa— " "STOP!!!!!"

Lord_Damocles · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
363 Chs

Cataclysm II

Soaked by perspiration peering through the lining of his robes, Roxas felt his lungs aflamed. "Twenty more," he panted, falling to a knee. Pain curling through his torn muscles brought a sort of small smile to his lips. Had there ever been a time since he felt mortal? Felt the weariness echoed a dreadful sense of morality through his bones? 

He was born a demigod, conceived through the fusion of a Celestial and High Human. Roxas didn't know much about his parents. Whether they were dead or not, Cain, his Master, never spoke on it, and he never asked. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. 

"It's our final stretch!" shouted Jacar. A Versi, an Ancient race that bore the Elements into being themselves. With his arms raised, gripping a staff he'd found lying around, he roared at the top of his lungs. "Kill!"