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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
344 Chs

Factory IV

Warning: Dark Chapter

Outside, Altair stepped towards the entrance of the Wall and crossed the drawbridge with reservation in his step. Remaining outside would only open them to an opportunity for attacks from whoever lay hidden in the forest.

It had been silent beneath the shadow of the Wall, eerily so, with the only sound being Altair's footsteps echoing over the stone. He stopped outside the threshold of what appeared to be a factory of sorts. It was different from what he'd imagined. On the outside, Altair saw a castle, but on the inside. What appeared was a factory lined with light fixtures as if to welcome someone in.

Unease prickled the young lord's spine in the form of knives as he paused. He couldn't sense danger, but his stomach churned as he stared into the empty abyss ahead. He could smell it. He could smell something foul that made his skin crawl and his eyes wet as if held hostage by a bleeding onion.

"What is this feeling?" He asked himself, hoping for an answer.