The Villainess Awakens
I remember burning cities with a smile. I remember kings begging at my feet before I silenced them forever. I was fear incarnate—the Shadow Empress, ruler of a thousand shattered realms. Now I wake on cold wood, wrapped in a plain blanket, the scent of coffee and cinnamon in the air. A man stammers something about 'resting well' as he avoids my gaze. This fragile human runs a forgotten café in a backwater town. He found me broken. He should’ve killed me. Instead… he made tea. Why can’t I bring myself to kill him?I wake to the smell of burnt sugar and steam. My wrists ache—bound not by chains, but bandages. The room spins. Wooden beams, cracked teacups, a radio humming a lullaby. Then I see him: wide eyes, trembling hands, holding out a spoon like it’s a weapon.
“You’re… awake,” he stammers. “I-I didn’t know what you liked, so I made porridge. With honey.”
I could snap his neck before he blinks. I’ve done it for less. But something in his voice—soft, afraid, yet… kind—freezes me.
He takes a step back. “You don’t have to eat it. Just… thought you might be hungry.”
My fingers twitch. Not toward his throat. Toward the bowl.
I have two choices: pretend gratitude to manipulate him… or discover if this warmth in my chest is hunger—or something worse.
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works: 32
Strength of the Weak
I am the strongest being on this planet. I’ve lifted mountains, stopped wars, and survived planetary impacts. But right now, choking on my own breath, I’m being brought down—not by force, not by technology, but by her. A woman they called fragile. A whisper in the wind. And she’s not even trying. The world thinks I’m invincible. She knows better. And as my vision darkens, I realize: she planned this from the beginning.
Cold Hands Warm Heart
I run a billion-dollar empire with an iron voice and a frozen stare. To the world, I’m untouchable. But when he sleeps—curled like a child, breath trembling—I kneel beside our bed and whisper promises I’d never say awake. He thinks I don’t care. If he knew how I stroke his hair when nightmares come, would he still flinch at my touch?
Golden Card Awakening
I never wanted to be a hero. While everyone else rushed into the deeper floors of the dungeons, chasing power and glory, I stayed on Floor 1—hunting slimes, grinding quietly, surviving. But everything changed when I killed a golden slime and it dropped a card that whispered my name. Now, I can feel something ancient waking up inside me. The world thinks dungeons are just challenges to conquer. They’re wrong. They’re doors. And I just found the key.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.