Jessica Jackson
Stories
5
Chapters
1,060
Words
656.8 K
Comments
0
Reading
2 d, 6 h
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Raising his arms into a guard, Clark's fist rocketed against his forearms, breaking through his guard before a burst of heat vision followed, aimed towards his face before Noah managed to evade it, lunging forward. "Ghh–!" Noah gritted his teeth. Flexing his muscles as they coiled with his utmost strength, he threw a punch with all of his might, causing the air to crack as he connected with Clark's nose. To his dismay, the tall, well-built man was standing there, unphased by the blow as only a…
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Simply barging through and beelining for his house wasn't a perfect option as he'd be followed anyway, but as he tried, SWAT officers holding riot shields lined up to try and prevent him from leaving the scene. 'It's your funeral!' he thought in response to their action. Thrusting his hand forward like a spear, he pierced straight through the riot shield, stabbing through the sternum of the tactical unit. He was bombarded by gunfire, hazed by shotgun pellets and hundreds of bullets from rapid-fire…
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Car horns blared and the bustling city was filled with murmurs of citizens, finding himself overwhelmed by it all in his moments of vulnerability, now drenched in blood from his vicious acts. '...Shit…' He thought. This thought process came from the unmistakable sound of sirens wheering in the distance, approaching swiftly as cabs and passing vehicles in the street moved to the side, allowing for the police cars to arrive in front of the hotel. He was surrounded with the streets cut off by a half…
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Before he could give another brand a try, a knock suddenly came to the door of the suite, catching him off-guard as he sighed to himself. "Well, that's probably not good, is it?" He muttered. He was hesitant to open the door, knowing it was no good, but after the knocking didn't stop, he finally gave in and opened it. Behind the door was a disgruntled looking middle-aged man with a bushy mustache, wearing a neat tuxedo with a nametag on it stating his name–"Harold." It was clear by a single look…
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For a moment, Yukio peered down at the pink smoothie, swishing it around in the cup as the scent that found its way to his nose proved itself to be real before he tested the substance itself. As it met his lips, in texture and flavor, it was completely true. "...Noah, something like this…You created it?" Yukio asked. "Yeah," Noah casually answered, sitting on one of the black stools seated at the kitchen counter, "It took a lot out of me though. I still haven't been at full strength since creating…
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As he carefully walked to the front door to his home, he readied a shadowy essence in the palm of his hand, staying prepared for anything. Placing his hand on the handle, he slowly opened it, pulling the door open as sunlight seeped through. "Emily?" He said in surprise. To his confusion, the hazel-haired girl he'd just got done texting was on his doorstep, holding tupperware in her hands. "Hey! I thought I'd check up on you for myself–I was already on my way over before you texted, actually,"…
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"Gah…!" Hundreds of meters from the area of conflict, Noah gasped out for air as his body was finally able to move again, holding his throat as sweat left his pores from the intense encounter. "...I'm alive…" He remarked. Standing in front of him with a small smile was the azure-haired companion of his, "Thanks to me, of course." "Yeah…thanks," Noah said, returning to his feet, "Still, why'd you show up?" Leaning against a pile of solid snow, Yukio retrieved a small badge from his pocket,…
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A scarlet-haired woman stood proudly with a look of contempt written on her face, wearing the same black suit they all seemed to wear, but having a fur cape hanging from her shoulders. Standing taller than any human he'd seen, a lanky, pale-skinned man with a suit that had to be tailor fit for him and a tophat atop his head stood with a pale-white mask worn on his face. A blonde-haired man with a fair face and a smile stood, wearing an unorthodox suit that had the signature cape of a superhero…
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Asiimov gritted his blood-stained teeth as he clenched the steaming, air-rippling core from his chest, gushing arterial fluid from the new hole revealed in his torso as he held the core of his very system forward, aiming it like a cannon. In response, Noah flicked both of his wrists as he de-manifested his swords, invoking magecraft from the farthest pages of his Creator's Grimoire. It was a section in the grimoire that he had not yet had the opportunity or necessity to tap into, but at last, he…
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Summoning forth an amount of energy that shoveled away the snow around him, sending cracks along the thick ice, Asiimov nearly keeled over from the strain placed on his body as blackened blood leaked from his eyes and ears, dripping from his lips. "This is…?" Noah watched in surprise at the suicidal act. Asiimov smiled, "...Everything I've got, Noah Grays–'villain to mankind.'" An unequivocal source of energy spiraled around Asiimov, sending tremors emitted through the region of the Antarctic;…
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