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Dimensional Descent

The Third Dimension is collapsing. The Fourth Dimension is descending. First it seemed that only technology would evolve, but who knew the world itself could too? It wasn’t as simple as climate change or tectonic movement. No, the fundamental laws of physics that governed everything were changing. Leonel was fairly lucky. His family was decently well off, his father loved him enough to brew vomit inducing nutrient rich smoothies every morning, and this was both the day of the National Championship and his 521st confession to his dream girl, Aina. As his father always said, nothing was more important than respect and persistence. Unfortunately, everything changed that night. At the after party of ages, the world reached a saturation point and an apocalypse descended. Abilities awakened. Sub-Dimensional Zones opened. Invalids rampaged through the Earth like a virus... Those who could evolve would have a slim chance for survival. Those who couldn’t would die. This novel will be a unique spin on the dungeon/system genre. Dungeons won't be dungeons and the system won't be a system... Take a look to find out what I mean :) -------- For Updates - @Awespec on twitter or https://discord.gg/awespec for discord https://www.instagram.com/awespec_/ https://dimensional-descent.fandom.com/wiki/Aina_Brazinger

Awespec · Fantasy
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3277 Chs

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Leonel took a step forward and struck out with the wooden spear. He used just a single arm, but the blade still seemed to sing. 

It had been a while since he used a wooden spear, and somehow it felt to resonate more with him. A spear from his Emulation Spatial Force and Scarlet Star Force was powerful, but it was precisely because of that it lost the most integral parts of what it meant to be a spear. 

His strike didn't have to be perfect, his Emulation Spatial Force made the blade sharp enough to cut through anything. It didn't have to be powerful. His Scarlet Star Force could blaze through anything. 

But now, with a simple, unadorned spear in his hand, a white cloth fluttering around where the polearm and blade met, if he wasn't perfect, he really would be cut at the waist.