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Master of Time

If you have the power to travel anywhere in time, armed with your knowledge, what would you do? Could you prevent wars, natural disasters and the economic crisis? Do you really want to? Wouldn’t you prefer to play God instead? Afterall, only God should have the power to control time. This is the story of my life. It is not for the faint of heart. I never wish for this power, yet I was granted it, nonetheless. I have watched the Great Pyramid being built, Rome being sacked, and unaccountable number of bloodsheds in the names of long forgotten Kings and Queens. Empire rises and falls, yet I remain. That is the single truth. Even the Modern Era is but a tiny drop in the ocean of time. History is just an experience to me. New Hollywood, what is that? Is that more interesting than the Great Migration or The Exodus? I will tell you all about it, the countless lives I have lived. As the Master of Time, time itself is my servant. It is loyal to a fault, preventing death from claiming me. In effect, it forces me to wander all of time and space, for all of eternity. I wonder when, if ever I will be free from this curse and this gift! Disclaimer: Story contains graphical sex scene. Tags: Time Travel, Ruthless Protagonist, Male Protagonist, Godly Power, Alternate History, Celebrities, Wars, Conquests, Kingdom Building. ******************** Discord Server https://discord.gg/ffazvKp

Erosire · Urbain
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237 Chs

Power of Absolute Command

I have made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

And in doing so, I am trapped here in this memory. A memory that is not mine by any mean, yet I will have to live and experience it as if it is mine.

It is to the point that I feel like I am actually George Collins, the original owner of this memory.

This is his life. The life that he had lived between 1970 to 1990, and I have all of his memory as well as his experience and personality. His anger and frustration. His desire and dream. All intermingling with my own, creating a lot of confusions when I had first found myself in a hospital bed with broken arms.

Luckily, I am aware of what is happening. If not, I would have assumed that I am George Collins without a shred of doubt in my mind.

That would not be a good thing, given that I would actually cease to be Maximilien Maxwell.