Cough Cough... It isn't plagarizm if they never existed.

Chapter: 3

The gates were gargantuan hulking things towering over the roads showing the superiority of the global superpower, the city of the gods. The only nation that could compare in military might was the amazon slave nation and they were a barbaric nation, forcing the citizens to fight in deathmatches until they reach level 2. Forcing siblings to kill each other enslaving men and forcing them to breed the next generation.

Evil shit and Orario got the power without the well it had some of the bad shit but it had the dungeon so it was all overlooked. Entering through the gates I smiled, my first step to power, true power not the power a single random adventurer can crush underfoot. Azar and Ali were captivated by the scene, when I thought back to how fast they leveled was it their innate skills that allowed them to kill stronger monsters and thus challenge themselves and level faster, or did my skill increase their stat gain aswell.

I needed to keep this a secret, if others found out I would never have a day of peace. Our carriage pulled us through the city waves of merchants pulling over and selling their wares, multitudes of laborers hoisting the hauls, into and out of the carts. We just went by, having sold everything before leaving Rakia because of the better prices we had enough for a while. Staring at the tower in the center of the city, a large group of people congregated, cheering as a large group of adventurers came from the dungeon.

I recognized the dwarf, wait no it was Palum, another guy who I forgot, Riveria the elf wizard, Leafia, and Ais the sword princess, exiting the dungeon, dozens of supporters and other adventurers following carrying packs and thousands of magic potions, picks, spare weapons, tents, and nearly dwindled supplies.

Oh and the grumpy Werewolf. Guy looked like someone pissed in his coffee. 2 scantily dressed amazons were hopping arround excited, and we just passed by. I had no business with them and even if I did would they listen? No. I was a level 2, and they were level 4's 5's, and 6's. Also, they were part of the Loki familia- The largest familia in Orario. Not the strongest but the largest.

Turning from the streets Anubis parked the cart before leaving me to guard, she took Azar, and Ali and went to buy our new house. With the money, we brought from Rakia, and the bandits we slew we could afford a small house in a slightly run-down area, more of a shack with a large basement. That was fine by me. With everything in the basement, no one could snoop.

Azar's arms were still broken, and Ali still nursing his injuries I was forced to enter the dungeon alone. I liked to be alone sometimes. I let my thoughts rumble, I would never intently lie to myself. I was weak. I needed more strength, so I threw myself through the first few floors. Then the third through fifth.

The ants were fun, cutting a path through hundreds of them, with my blade a single knick was enough to kill so I farmed them for a while basking in the sweet sweet sound of money. Entering the middle floors allowed me to fight fire users that weren't Azar in the form of Hellhounds, their attacks were weaker yet numerous, forcing me to move faster lest I get my ass burnt.

Battle was a competition with large prizes, the prize being survival so my Genome allowed me to tap into the concept of Victory boosting my strength speed, and luck when doing something that has a winner or loser. I wish I got a different Genome but beggars can't be choosers. If I got a Violet I could have got teleportation, or timestamp, or reversing the time on a wound to heal making me immortal. A Green could let me heal anything or create clones of myself, and red allowed me to boost my energy manipulation.

Hell white had things like Death, and Luck that would make me a monster that could kill with a glance or never be hit intentionally or unintentionally. If I had a healing skill I wouldn't be alone, no one could leave me again, and I wouldn't be forced to crawl through shit and eat from dumpsters.

Calming down I use the minimum effort needed to kill with each strike, I would tire myself out if I went that hard without a break. I didn't want to take a break I wanted to cut and cut and cut and cut until everything was dead and I was smiling on a mountain of corpsed, I wanted to cut away all of my fears, all of my insecurities about being left alone ripped from my home and forced to make a new life with no one, and nothing.

This time I had my stone what about next time, Killing the final hellhound I dropped into the fetal position and shook, for a minute hot tears ran down my face before I forced my face to blank, caught my breath, and pushed forward. My breaths steady, every movement calculated and swift, every blast of fire blocked, every opening punished, each strike true. Every step propelled me further into the death trap of a dungeon.

Before realizing I was in Rivira, the city seemed too loud, and I wanted to cry myself to sleep so I ran into the woods and took a nap inside a tree. I awoke less than an hour later scratching at Ali's mark marring my skin alongside the dozens of scars, I was happy, he was my brother in all but blood now, he was a little shit but he didn't want to lose me, and me him. Azar was a pyromaniac, but kind, and slightly crazy.

Anubis? She was my light, I loved her with my entire being, the world was dimmer before she entered the picture, and when I think of her I think back to the sappy love poetry that I read in my past life, those memories crystal clear. Dozens of quotes could encapsulate my feelings for her but in truth, I was grateful that she cared about me.

When I awoke I pushed deeper into the dungeon, my blade hungry yet there was more caution in my steps. I didn't have Abnormal Resistance yet, and I had never trained in poison resistance. Fighting against poison was a competition to see who won, if I survived or if the poison could claim my life.

Cutting through the hordes of bugs I collect all the drops into my bag of holding, my best creation yet. Butterfly wings, lizard scales, and teeth, bee stingers, and way too many plants. Placing the drop items into my bag I made my way back to the surface, it was quicker on the way up because I was just running not killing anything.

Selling the drops at the guild netted me 438,000 Valis, and that was a lot of money, leaving the guild I made sure to note down the people that glanced at me differently. Hungry, tired, sad, and in need of a drink, I decided to enter the Hostess of Fertility. The bar was rowdy, a woman with brilliant scarlet hair and squinted eyes was chugging an entire bottle of Soma wine.

To her right was the grumpy wolf, and blonde princess, on her left was 'The Braver' Pallum, his name was Finn I believe, Gareth was next to them, one of the twins was trying to get Finn drunk the other was moping and nursing a bottle.

Smiling I waited to be served, My waitress was a woman named Syr, grey-haired, and beautiful, She led me to the counter, and asked me for my order. I wasn't a drinker so I asked for water and spaghetti, instead, I was given a mug of ale, a plate of spaghetti, 3 baked potatoes, and a steak. Pulling out my notepad I write down every poem I can remember, I want to keep any connection to the past life I can, and what better way than the transmigration special move "Plagiarizing".

For some reason, my mind was like an Iron trap from my past life knowledge, and I couldn't forget even if I wanted to like how I was too much of a pussy to stay with my dog while she was being put down. First I wrote the passages from novels that called to me, a lot of them from How to Lose a Time War, that book had great purple prose and was really romantic.

My favorite quote was "Hunger, Red-to sate hunger or to stroke it, to feel hunger as a furnace, to trace its edges like teeth-is this a thing to you, singly, know? Have you ever had a hunger that whetted itself on what you fed it, sharpened so keen and bright that it might split you open, break a new thing out?" I replaced Hunger with Desire for my own purposes.

The steak needed sauce but well asking for sauce here seems like a death sentence, the potato was al dente and delicious, the rich butter causing the potato to pop. Scribbling down quotes I try and think about any books that I could publish, I would need to find one age-appropriate, so no Sci-Fi, its terminology would need to be understandable by people of this age aswell.

Shaking my head I dig into the spaghetti, the sauce was fucking marvelous. Finally noticing the piercing gaze on my side I give an inquisitive glance to Syr.

"What'cha writing"

"Poetry" I answered succinctly before glancing back at my paper.

"Lemme hear it" She leaned over slightly teasingly.

I blushed slightly, before reading the passage,

---

(Freya Pov)

Normally I wouldn't be here at the same time as Loki but I felt that it would be prudent for me to do so. Nothing special happened just the normal customers getting drunk until a sun walked through the door.

His soul gleamed a brilliant gold, and within a flame, a flame of ambition seemingly being stoaked at all times, growing and devouring everything in its path, yet at the same time there was something else, keeping the ambition at bay, growing with each other, and there was more, a brilliant white light, seemingly screaming it's dominance, screaming it was victory incarnate and that all challengers shall fall before it's overwhelming VICTORY.

Greeting him I brought him to the bar so I could get better glances, he ordered water and spaghetti and got him ale instead of normal food I waited, and instead of drinking he ate slowly savoring the food and pulled out a little notebook. Writing his emotions changed from melancholy to sadness to yet more determination.

He wrote for a few minutes before noticing my gaze, raising a single eyebrow he glances back at his page, sauntering over I leaned over and asked "What'cha Writing"

"Poetry" came his terse reply.

"Lemme hear it" I asseted.

Smiling at his blush his demeanor changed gone was the blushing teen now he was a warrior, a leader whose ambition seemed to outshine the sun. His voice was nary a whisper yet it carried to my ears and drilled into my brain, into my heart, my soul.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I'll write it in waves. In skies. In my heart. You'll never see, but, you, will, know. I'll be all the poets, I'll kill them all and take each one's place in turn, and every time Love's written in all the strands it will be to you"

Blushing and leaning back I dream of him between my thighs, and I ask "What do you mean by strands?" He seemed puzzled for a minute before explaining "Immagine if you will all of reality from the first seccond to the last is a tapestry, every choice a stitch, every choice branching into different paths, every choice creating a strand, a possible future, a nearly infinite number of possible timelines, or strands. Is that too much?"

"No, it's perfect whoever it is for is a lucky woman" Jealousy burned through me. "Got any more?"

He seemed reluctant before nodding,

God that voice was crispy, deep, and silky, it drew my attention leaving me hanging on every word. I want him.