Matthew Thompson
Stories
3
Chapters
1,782
Words
343.3 K
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Reading
1 d, 4 h
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“Yep, those are my boys, Cynrik is 12 going on 13, and Brance is 11. We figured that since they’re going to be taking the exams, we may as well swing by so I could introduce you to them and pick up that project I asked your Dad to do for me.” Maeve broke into a wide grin before scurrying back behind the counter and ducking down in search of something. “Dad just finished them up, not sure why you wanted these little things made, but everything is right here.” BANG Reappearing from behind the…
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Cynrik barely had enough time to buckle his seatbelt as Cinyah pushed forward the vehicle’s throttle, taking off and forcing his back against the seat. Noticing the complaints from the back seat, Cinyah pulled back on the steering column, forcing the hovercar up at a steep angle while giggling at her children’s expense; as they were pressed into their seats further. Unfortunately, while the boys had their seatbelts on, Rikard didn’t, and the sudden acceleration and subsequent verticle climb caused…
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“BOYS, LET’S GO, GET A MOVE ON!” Cinyah’s stern and melodious voice danced around the house in an attempt to rouse the two sleeping brothers. Kicking off his comforter and sitting up groggily, Cynrik rubbed his bloodshot eyes before turning and hanging his legs off the bed. Five years had gone by since the events of Haylons Shadow, and some things changed for the now 12-year-old boy. First off, he and Brance finally had their own rooms, and they had each set about designing them much like they…
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For the last two hours straight, Cinyah had been screaming at her reckless children, who, even though they made it home in one piece, were in an absolutely abysmal state. Their clothes were in tatters, and they were covered from head to toe in blood, cuts, and bruises, not to mention that both Cynrik and Brance currently had their Codexes and Mana Circuits crippled. Cinyah would waver between fits for screaming and sobs as if she was Bipolar. All the while, the two boys were kneeling on the ground with…
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Somewhere, in the unknown expanse of cosmos, in the Hall of Gods, Odin sat upon his majestic throne, Hliðskjálf. Reclining in a relaxed but wild posture, he sat with one leg slung over the right armrest of the massive, wooden, and iron throne. With each breath he took, the runic patterns that covered Hliðskjálf would glow a soft violet before dimming alongside the Deities exhale. A few feet before him was a massive version of Tobs' notification box, but instead of simple text, it displayed a live feed…
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– Initiating Recap Protocol.- – Setting up Data Log.- – Compiling available information to date.- – Acquiring Community questions.- -WARNING WARNING THE FOLLOWING MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 1!- – Shattering dimensional Fourth Wall.- Hello and welcome to the auxiliary chapter known as Tobs’ Corner. In this section, I, Tobs, shall be answering a few questions and delving into several bits of information that may need further explanation to allow the plot to continue smoothly. I will…
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-Using the Over-Break Mode is impossible currently.- -PS. Don’t be dumb- Seeing the PS note, Tobs added Cynrik didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Lithlen was fuming; not only had he wasted precious resources to bring his fleet out to the boonies, but now the trash children of his son were pushing back against his authority. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to kill all four of the people before him and leave this garbage dump. Just as Lithlen was about to raise his hand to strike down…
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“HI, MOM! HIII MOMM!, THAT’S ALL YOU’VE GOT TO SAY FOR YOURSELF, CYNRIK-AYKE-JETLENSR!” Cinyah’s booming voice was so loud Cynrik believed his ears were bleeding. Brance snickered at his older brother’s expense. In desperation, Cynrik’s eyes darted around looking for Rikard, hoping to be saved, but like his mother, Rikard was standing with a troubled expression on his face and his arms crossed, several feet away. Seeing her son with a panicked look, Cinyah’s rage quelled, and she…
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Minutes before the hotel began rumbling, a short, round man in an expensive grey and black suit stood atop the building, on the highest floor’s balcony, looking out over the expanse of darkness to the west. This man was Haylon Nightingale, the master of the underground organization known as Haylon’s Shadow. In the room behind him, dozens of young, lifeless corpses were scattered about as if they were articles of trash. If one were to examine the bodies further, they would see that each one of them had…
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In a hotel lobby filled with destruction and blood, two young boys could be seen lying on their backs, staring at a decrepit and cracked mural depicting the scene of a party of warriors facing off against a massive dragon. From time to time, the muscles in the two boy’s arms and legs would violently spasm, bringing small painfilled whimpers from their mouths. Cynrik, the eldest boy, said in the mind link the two brothers shared. They had been lying in this same position for over 30 minutes, and still,…
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