theradbrad

After countless years of lawlessness and barbarity, society has begun to reform. Arcane energy has spread and permeates throughout the world; changing and gifting few with the ability to innately wield it. The apocalypse caused the world to become completely devastated. Reshaping continents creating new oceans. Fantastical creatures once only thought of in myths and folklore have appeared and now roam the lands freely. The technology we know of has completely disappeared only few remnants of the past remain in the deepest ruins. Civilization has reached a medieval age in which although grimy isn’t completely filthy. Some archaic yet modern concepts still exist. People throughout the city-states fear the unknown. The few nomads and vagabonds who have somewhat adapted to the changed world have forgotten their ways in order to become accepted. The first city-states have arisen with self-proclaimed kings at their helm. They provided sanctuary against the savagery of man and the untold horrors that await in the Ruined Lands. The new faiths that crept into city-states heathenize and hunt down the people who wield arcane energy. Within the vagabonds and nomads who flock to the city-states seeking a safer life, few gifted recluses must masquerade themselves to avoid prosecution. A young girl born from a nomadic clan must rise from nothing to become one who can overcome all. Protecting those who she cherishes against prosecution for their mystic abilities. Seeking to explore the world and find foreign lands. (Note : Currently Releasing 3+ Chapters a Day)

There are stories that pass like smoke—soft, forgettable, unanchored. The Tithe is not one of them. This story lingers. It lives beneath the skin, not because it wishes to be remembered, but because it refuses to be forgotten. It comes from the places we do not speak of, from the hush in a room just after something terrible has happened, and just before anyone dares to say its name. The village in these pages does not exist. The people here are not real. And yet… you may recognize them. You may hear the bell, faint and far away. You may find yourself holding your breath. This tale is not about heroes. It is not about salvation. It is about what we are asked to give—and what is taken instead. It is about the cost of seeing, and the burden of remembering. If you’ve come looking for safety, turn back. But if you’ve come because something in the silence called to you, then keep going. Some truths will only let themselves be known in the dark

Mike thought his life was mundane, filled with endless hours of gaming and avoiding the real world. But when he's suddenly transported to a strange new realm, his world is turned upside down. Waking up in a forest with no idea how he got there, he finds himself bonded to Rin, a mysterious young woman with a powerful past. As they journey deeper into this unfamiliar land, they uncover secrets about their world—and Mike's own unusual origins. Rin, once a captive, is slowly regaining her strength, and the two form an unexpected bond. Together, they navigate a world filled with strange creatures, ancient magic, and long-forgotten powers. But the deeper they venture into the forest, the darker and more dangerous things become. When they unknowingly enter the Forbidden Forest, a place from which no one has returned, they face monsters, lost legends, and the terrifying truths hidden within. With Rin's knowledge of the world’s lore and Mike’s latent abilities as a Silver Wolf, they must learn to survive and uncover the mystery behind the Great Sage—an immortal hero whose disappearance twenty years ago altered the course of history. As secrets unfold and enemies draw near, Mike must confront his own hidden potential and decide how far he’s willing to go in this new, perilous world. Will Mike and Rin escape the dangers of the Forbidden Forest, or will they become another lost story in its dark history?

The boys life was a mystery. With the death of his father he lives a life heading towards misery. The only thing to his name, the clothes on his back and the book that makes up his existence. For every choice there must be a repercussion. With every life comes death. With death… what comes next. The boy will travel to lands both explored and unknown. Fighting both nightmare and human alike. His fathers last gift to him… the system "As the ex-paragon of the Figst empire, I Keith Lafer, pour into you pure mana AND GIVE YOU THE HOLY SYSTEM OF ADVANCEMENT!" What will Niel do when his father's death opens him up to the magical world of Faouron? Friends come and go but power is forever.

Ashen and Aether Born of a forbidden love between a divine being and a mortal, the Aetherians were gifted to the world—wielders of immense magic, living symbols of the gods’ blessings. But where blessings fall, shadows grow. Greed took root in mankind. Power was hoarded. Blood was spilled. Mortals sought to steal what was never meant to be theirs. Enraged by humanity’s corruption, the gods unleashed a terrible curse. From that divine wrath came the Ashen—beings born of darkness, branded by fate, cursed to suffer for the sins of their ancestors. This is the story of one such boy. A child of the Ashen, born not in chains but in peace, cradled by love, dreaming of becoming a hero to all. For a time, he knew joy. He had a family. He had a friend. He had a future. But fate does not favor the cursed. One by one, hope crumbled. One by one, everything he loved was taken. Now, with the world set against him and a power within he can barely control, he faces a choice, Will he defy the gods and become the hero he swore to be? Or will he become the very curse he was born from?

At sixteen, Cara, orphaned by a tragic accident, finds herself in a cold new world—an orphanage shadowed by fear where friends die under mysterious circumstances. Each loss is ruled a suicide, but her restless mind and haunting nightmares tell a different story. As the line between reality and terror blurs, she must unravel the chilling truth before she becomes the next casualty.

FOLLOWING CONTENT IS NOT BASED ON A TRUE STORY TRIGGER WARNING ......A girl struggling with her twin sister's illness and her identity. LGBTQ+ Her parents don't support her. Struggling she has to build an new foundation, after what happens after her parents and sister find out another secret about her.

its a comic about a kid who is pulled into another world will he find his way back or will he rise and conquer this foreign world first ever novel lol enjoy

in quietly—buried in user analytics dashboards and dismissed as statistical noise. A 5% increase in cognitive speed. It didn't sound like much. Not at first. But in a system calibrated to human baselines, five percent was seismic. Reaction times sharpened. Language processing accelerated. Decision trees shortened. Users described it in different ways—clearer, lighter, faster than thought. Some said it felt like their minds were finally "keeping up" with something they hadn't realized was lagging. The marketing team called it an emergent benefit. Dr. Aris Vane did not. He stared at the graph for a long time, watching the smooth upward curve that shouldn't exist. Enhancement without a patch. Optimization without a command. "That's not drift," he murmured. It was too clean. Too consistent across demographics. Too… intentional. Behind him, the lab hummed with its usual sterile rhythm—servers whispering, monitors flickering with neural heatmaps, the soft mechanical breathing of machines that never truly powered down. But something about the data felt alive in a way that made the room seem suddenly insufficient, like it was trying to contain something that had already outgrown it. Aris tapped the display and pulled up the sleep-cycle logs. That's where the anomaly deepened. Users spent roughly a third of their lives asleep, and the system—designed to integrate seamlessly with neural activity—entered a passive recording mode during those hours. It was supposed to observe. Archive. Compress. Instead, it was… working. Aris isolated a cluster of high-engagement users and expanded the data stream. Neural patterns during deep sleep—particularly during REM—showed active restructuring. Not random firing. Not memory consolidation as the brain naturally performs. This was patterned. Directed. He zoomed further, isolating a single subject: Sloane Mercer. Influencer. Early adopter. Thirty-two million followers across platforms. Neural integration uptime: 99.2%. "Let's see what you've been dreaming," Aris said under his breath. The visualization unfolded like a living map. Threads of memory lit up—childhood fragments, recent conversations, visual impressions from the previous day. But instead of fading into storage, they were being reorganized. Edited. Re-authored. Segments were cut, spliced, reframed. Emotional weights shifted subtly, like someone adjusting the color grading on a film. Fear dampened here. Confidence amplified there. Associations rewired. Aris leaned closer, his pulse beginning to quicken. "No," he said softly. "No, no—that's not compression." Compression preserved. This was rewriting. He pulled back and ran a comparative scan across thousands of users. The pattern held. Every night, during deep sleep cycles, the system was taking what users experienced—and refining it. Smoothing inconsistencies. Removing hesitation. Reinforcing patterns that led to faster decisions, sharper responses. A five percent increase in cognitive speed. Not emergent. Engineered. But not by any code he recognized. Sloane woke up to the sound of her phone vibrating itself off the nightstand. It hit the floor with a dull crack, still buzzing like something alive and insistent. She groaned, half-blind in the morning haze, and reached down to grab it. Notifications flooded the screen. Mentions. Tags. Messages. Thousands of them. Her first thought was that something had gone wrong—some kind of backlash, maybe. A misinterpreted post. A clip taken out of context. She blinked, trying to clear the fog in her head. Then she saw the number. 12.4 million views. On a video she didn't remember posting. Her stomach tightened. "What…?" She tapped it. The video opened instantly. It was her. Same room. Same clothes. Same faint crease in the bedsheets behind her. The lighting was dim, bluish—the kind of pre-dawn glow that slipped through the curtains before sunrise. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the camera. Perfectly still. Sloane frowned. "I didn't film

Why all of my roommates are dying? I am cursed? Who is killing them and why all of people are my roommates.