Transformation or Death - Chapter 104

Peace is a lie told by kings sitting on a pile of corpse..........In a dying world ravaged by dungeons, beasts, and alien gods, only one truth remains:Power decides everything.Some Heroes are kind.Some are just.Most... are monsters wearing crowns of light.Ezekiel Zahara was supposed to die forgotten, a bastard stain in a noble bloodline.They tried to kill him.They failed.He awakened a mysterious system that enabled him to fuse lifeforms with machines into something neither man nor gods could comprehend.With circuits running through his Spirit Veins and mechanical beasts by his side, Ezekiel will carve his legend into the bones of the world.

“And if someday you see me, remember to forget my name, or karma will bow.”****For Awuor’s power, her people had done the unthinkable, in the history of werewolves.Her beta and brother, Dom, murdered their mother, the Sicario luna and blamed it on Awuor. In his grief, her father didn't bother to try and find out the truth, instead, for murdering her mother, he gave his daughter the worst punishment any alpha could ever get.He banished her from home, but Awuor’s wasn’t the usual banishment. Her father neither stripped her of the alpha title, nor did he make her a rogue. Instead, Alpha Sicario forced Awuor to be an exiled alpha, a woman so powerful, but with no one to rule over.Her mate, Jer, a power-hungry bastard, stepped up to rule the Sicario pack, since Awuor, the reigning alpha, was away, and Jer never once sought her out. Just like everyone else, he had betrayed her when he claimed a different woman, without rejecting Awuor.As the gates of Sicario closed on her, as her people watched her in disgust and disappointment, the daughter of Sicario had just one thought.A PROMISE of destruction & vengeance; she would ruin them all.***[EXCERPT]“Either you're from the Dawson pack, the Bluemoon pack, or the Sicario pack, because you're definitely not from our Greyson pack. You must have done something really stupid for your alphas to banish you, even though you have no scent of the ferals.“So that could mean you're not a feral, but you're certainly not that important to your people. You seem to have an attitude and reek of power, that's why you don't appreciate anyone talking to you like a regular wolf.“But all of that doesn't matter right now, because you are the unwanted little wolf. The girl without a home, the rejected wolf who can't be claimed by anyone else. You're dressed in banana leaves because you have no clue how to make proper clothing on your own.“— or even check the feral cloth reservoir on the west of this forest. The fact that you have stayed so close to the other three packs is because you don't want to be away from home and are somehow hoping that they'd want you back.“Allow me to spell it out for you and make it easier for your probably useless brain to understand, little wolf, no one wants you. I'm only taking you to my alpha because your presence here is a nuisance to us, and for some reason, the alpha is interested in you.“And before you get any ideas about mates and whatnot, our alpha is already mated. So will you get up on your own, or do we have to take you stripped? Because I for one have no problem doing that. We could just treat you like the rogue that you're not,” Adolf said to Awuor who still had her angry smirk on.

There was a time where I was summoned to a different world. I spent more than a year as a Priestess from a different world. I fulfilled my role and decided to return to my original world. Before leaving, I confessed my feelings to my escort knight. And from there I was heartbroken. After returning to the original world for a year and half, I was summoned again. What? Apparently this time, nobody summoned me. I was sent out to a great extent and have a lost love. I cannot face anyone now! No one knows that I was a former Priestess and I can only quickly return to my original world. Even so, it does not seem to work out very well…

That lonesome night as he lays dying in the hospital, fearing of death and desiring the taste of life, his mind became unprecedentedly complex with mixed emotions.

Myasthenia gravis — an incurable disease where one’s muscle slowly degenerated until the day when one can no longer move and only tears may flow.

“Is this… dying?”

When he opened his eyes again, he had crossed over into the body of a two months old infant, right in the middle of an assassination attempt.

He was born as the illegitimate son of a noble. His name was Fan Xian; and with that name came the burden of deep political secrets and the legacy of his mother.

He understood; to survive, he needed unparalleled strength, money and political power.

To a new world with the luxury of a new life, so named; Celebrating the Remaining Life.

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