God of Systems: Maker of Heroes and Villains - Chapter 164 Clara Wants to Talk Personally

“Aria,” he said softly. “Today is your birthday.”It wasn't a question, but I nodded nevertheless.“The moon is full tonight,” he added, his voice quiet. “You will attend the ceremony.”“Of course, Elder,” I replied, puzzled. All eighteen-year-olds attended the ceremony. It was essential.He leaned in, smelling gently. “You already feel it, don't you? ”The change.My heartbeat skipped. “What change?”Elder Malin's eyes narrowed. Interesting. “Very interesting.” He reached inside his pocket and retrieved a little pouch. “Wear this tonight.”I accepted it hesitantly. Inside was a simple moonstone pendant with a leather cord.“But this is for—”“Wear it,” he interjected. “Hide it under your clothes if you must, but wear it.”Moonstones were precious. They aided our connection to the Moon Goddess during ceremonies. However, they were only given to wolves from influential families (Alphas and Betas). Not Omegas like me.“Why?” I questioned.Elder Malin glanced at Mira before returning his attention to me. “Because someone is harboring secrets about you, child. And tonight, those secrets may be revealed.”I never mattered in our pack. Omegas like me serve, submit, and survive. We don't dream of love. We don't dream of power.She was the future Luna. I was just the girl who watched from the shadows.But everything changed on my 18th birthday.I felt the bond. I met my mate.One of the Alpha's sons.But the Alpha has triplets, and I felt the mate bond with all three and it seems the three of them felt it too — three perfect warriors, three powerful Alphas, three secrets buried beneath the surface.One of them is my destiny.One of them is lying.And one of them might be the death of me.The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes... but this time, I think she might've given me too much to handle.

His muscles screamed, his body begged for rest, his mind ordered him to stop. But Bakugo couldn't. Not while Izuku hadn't arrived. So, he pushed forward. Every explosion, every strike, every movement was pure determination, a reflection of his unwavering will to win.For a moment, he felt beyond himself. Fast. Precise. Almost invincible.And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The battlefield vanished, and the pain ceased.It was in that moment that Katsuki Bakugo understood... he had died.Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.

Ethan Smith is 22 year old young guy. He was doing MBA from a a nearby college. He has always wanted to be rich, surrounded by beauties. But life never gives the way you want. While riding his motorcycle to comeback home from college, he was hit by Truck-kun and he got transmigrated.He travelled to eastern fantasy world. And he found himself in the body of a young man named Aric Lei.“I got transmigrated into the body of the young master of Lei family.”[“Ding!”][“Hello Host, the villain system is here to help you to become the ultimate villain.”][“As a beginner pack, I would give one skill for free. Tell me what skill you want?”]Ethan - “My Dear System, Give me the Mind Control Skill. ”“Granting you the absolute mind control skill. Through which you can corrupt anyone's mind”Ethan - “This time I will fuck this world. Ha ha ha ”Note: No NTR, No Yuri, Milfs, Power-packed.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”