name of the icarus sea story

Synopsis: The Bastion of the Twelve (The Final Descent) ​The Bastion of the Twelve is a metaphysical epic tracing the journey of Haoran and Yuxiao as they lead a sanctuary of outcasts through the Forbidden Deep. The Archive, a divine machine of absolute order, treats their existence as a "narrative error" that must be corrected through total erasure. ​The heart of the story lies in the sanctuary’s Metallurgical Metamorphosis, where the city’s physical shell transforms through periodic elements to counter divine protocols. From the Tellurium Logic-Engines to the Thorium Nuclear Hearts, each transformation is a desperate attempt to stay written on the page of existence. ​The Tragedy of the Twin-Logic ​The core conflict is not just between the sanctuary and the Archive, but within the "Lattice of Will" that binds Haoran and Yuxiao. To protect the refugees, they must merge their souls into the city’s core, becoming the very syntax that holds the world together. However, the Archive’s final protocol—the Absolute Paradox—is designed to turn the two pillars of the sanctuary against one another. ​The Climax: The 5,000th Gate ​As the sanctuary reaches the final threshold of the 5,000th chapter, the Archive forces a "Resolution." The divine logic dictates that for the refugees to transition into a new, safe universe, the "Authors" of the rebellion—Haoran and Yuxiao—must be purged to balance the cosmic scales. ​The story concludes in a devastating Zero-Sum Strike: ​The Final Betrayal: Under the weight of the Archive’s corruption, the two protagonists are forced into a terminal duel. Their powers, which once resonated in perfect harmony, become polar opposites—one of absolute density and the other of absolute void. ​The Mutual Sacrifice: Realizing that the only way to break the Archive’s cycle is to leave the narrative entirely, they choose to kill each other simultaneously. By dying at each other’s hands, they create a "Logical Void" that the Creator God cannot fill. ​The Legacy: Their blood fuels the final transformation of the sanctuary into a Trans-Finite Realm, a world without a master. The refugees survive, but the book closes on the image of Haoran and Yuxiao’s armor drifting in the deep, locked in a final, lethal embrace. ​The book ends not with a victory, but with a Final Punctuation—the protagonists become the martyrs of their own story, ensuring that while they perish, their words remain unerasable.

[The pampering story has ended] For a hundred million, he bought her. "From today onward, you're mine, in body and soul." The man held her, declaring dominantly like an emperor. ... ... Lucas Walker: Xiaoye, you are the rib that God took out of me. Xiaoye: I spit, it is you who is the rib, your whole family is the rib. Baby A: Mommy, is a rib the same as a spare rib? Baby B: I like sweet and sour flavor.

=== WSA 2025 - Silver Prize Winner === Discord: https://discord.gg/3q2GJdk27D ============================ Way before I was even born, my world was invaded. Actually, not just my world, my entire damn universe was overrun by another, led by a single race that called themselves the Eternals. And they were prepared. Very prepared. Every life we lost in the war against them was used by them. They didn’t just kill people, they captured their souls, forged them into Phantoms, and used the souls to twist beasts into Abominations. Our dead became their army. Three hundred years later, I was born. A guy with way too much energy. Sitting still? Impossible. Taking it slow? Not happening. I was always moving, always ready to burst into action. Then I awakened, and got a talent too. My Talent's Name Was Generator. Because of it I never ran out of energy. Ever. My muscles? Supercharged. My healing? Faster. My stamina? Please, I had no idea what being tired even felt like. So if the universe wanted to throw an endless war at me? Fine. I’d throw everything I had right back. I wasn’t born a hero. Never wanted to be one. But this war? It wasn’t just my universe’s fight anymore. It was mine. The Eternals made sure of that when they took my parents' souls.

That day, the breath of the great whale dispersed the fog, and a new era arrived. Chen Qi accidentally transmigrated into the steampunk-apocalyptic game world of 'New Sun,' starting with the monstrous talent "Deep Sea Affinity," where ancient deep-sea creatures saw him as one of their own. Although he possessed the talents of a monster, as a transmigrator, he still maintained the original intentions of humanity, striving to level up with the firm resolve to become a world-renowned Monster Hunter. Finally, after his relentless efforts, the popular Dove Times sharply commented: "From the ancient deep sea, a scoundrel with evil bloodlines who threatens witches with tentacles, the arrogant lone Emperor of the Fifth, who aims to conquer the Witch Sea!" False news, blatant false news! Even though he grew tentacles, threatened witches, raised sea dragons, collected tolls, and sang the death chorus with sea monsters. He was truly not of any Deep Sea Ancient God's bloodline but a dedicated and responsible Hunter. Chen Qi cut down the fleet before him and earnestly clarified.

Roland awakens with the memories of the life before his transmigration and gets a soul-bound card which makes him a good writer. He takes part in a national writing contest and submits his writing. But after hearing that the old king has died and there will be a new empress, he is overwhelmed by a wave of panic. Because the title of his work is Oh My, the Empress Is Pregnant, Who's the Father?

=== WSA 2025 === Lange, lange und sehr lange bevor ich überhaupt geboren wurde, wurde meine Welt überfallen. Eigentlich nicht nur meine Welt, mein gesamtes verdammtes Universum wurde von einem anderen überrannt, angeführt von einer einzigen Rasse, die sich selbst die Ewigen nannten. Und sie waren vorbereitet. Sehr gut vorbereitet. Jedes Leben, das wir im Krieg gegen sie verloren, wurde von ihnen genutzt. Sie töteten die Menschen nicht nur, sie fingen ihre Seelen ein, schmiedeten sie zu Phantomen und nutzten die Seelen, um Bestien in Abscheulichkeiten zu verwandeln. Unsere Toten wurden zu ihrer Armee. Dreihundert Jahre später wurde ich geboren. Ein Typ mit viel zu viel Energie. Stillsitzen? Unmöglich. Es langsam angehen? Nicht möglich. Ich war immer in Bewegung, immer bereit, in Aktion zu treten. Dann erwachte ich und bekam auch ein Talent. Mein Talent hieß Generator. Deswegen ging mir nie die Energie aus. Niemals. Meine Muskeln? Aufgeladen. Meine Heilung? Schneller. Meine Ausdauer? Bitte, ich hatte keine Ahnung, wie sich Müdigkeit überhaupt anfühlte. Wenn das Universum also einen endlosen Krieg auf mich werfen wollte? Fein. Ich würde alles, was ich hatte, zurückwerfen. Ich wurde nicht als Held geboren. Wollte nie einer sein. Aber dieser Krieg? Es war nicht mehr nur der Kampf meines Universums. Es war meiner. Die Ewigen stellten das sicher, als sie die Seelen meiner Eltern nahmen.

The vast seas are filled with abundant resources but are also home to numerous sea demons, making it a place difficult for human cultivators to tread. One day, Lu Li crosses into the vast and boundless sea realm of immortal cultivation, carrying with him a magical beast-refining pot that can transform into various sea monsters, allowing him to roam the seabed. While cultivators on the islands struggle for a single spiritual herb, Lu Li has already built an underwater spiritual farm base. Watch him strategize step by step, leaving a footprint with every move, as he grows into a top-tier power in the world of immortal cultivation. Looking back after countless years, the days spent fighting sea demons, refining evil spirits, and treasure hunting in the deep sea remain vivid in his memory...

[Dúo fuerte + Aplastar al canalla + Mimos dulces + Drama de persecución de esposa + Protagonista femenina con identidades ocultas] Después del divorcio, ella se transformó brillantemente, con identidades ocultas por todas partes, convirtiéndose en presidenta de la noche a la mañana, blandiendo un bisturí y asombrando al mundo con sus habilidades quirúrgicas. Para su sorpresa, su ex-marido estaba bastante entusiasmado en perseguirla. Cuando fue cuestionado por una loto blanca, el hombre se burló: "¡Ella no tratará tu tipo de neurosis!" Rodeado por medios de comunicación chismosos, el hombre amenazó con dominio: "Si no quieres ser incluida en la lista negra, mantente alejada". "El que debería irse eres tú", dijo ella, llena de desdén. La consecuencia de rechazar sus avances fue quedar atrapada en un rincón, incapaz de moverse. Él presionó contra su nariz, casi besándola: "Cariño, ¡volvamos a casarnos! ¡No me importa ser un padrastro!" Noelle: ... Ahora la pregunta es, ¿debería seguir permitiéndole ser un padrastro, o decirle que el bebé en su vientre es en realidad suyo?

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling

The runaway Chen Enci, upon first meeting Qin Jie, mistook him for the landlord: "Renting your room and bed!" Chen Enci, who moved into Qin Jie's house, woke up hungry in the middle of the night and knocked on Qin Jie's door: "Renting pots and pans!" A month later, Chen Enci saw Qin Jie bring home a pretty lady. He lingered at the front door before banging on Qin Jie's door: "Renting bathroom, facial cleanser, and shower gel!" Half a year later, Chen Enci, drunk, leaned into Qin Jie’s arms under the influence: "Renting... you!" ... We have all become the people we dreamed of being. We haven’t forgotten each other. The alternate title of this book is "You Above the Milky Way".