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Puppet Throne

DaoistysSJf7
In a grim Victorian world where the mysterious energy known as Methan governs power and fate, one name echoes in the dark—Eliot Gray. A genius orphan raised in silence, forged by pain, and driven by an unbreakable will. Methan is divided into four deadly forces: Body Energy: Enhance physical abilities. Control Energy: Bend reality to your will. Enhancement Energy: Amplify and shield. Special Energy: A rare, forbidden fusion of all three. Every wielder is ranked: Bronze – Weak. Silver – Average. Gold – Elite. Purple – Overpowered. Turquoise – Beyond the system. Eliot doesn’t just aim to climb the ranks—he aims to shatter them. With his mind sharper than any blade and secrets buried in his blood, Eliot begins his quiet war in the shadows. There are no gods. No heroes. Only minds, power, and survival.
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Dark Genesis: The Xenomorph Equation

Enzer's unexpected relocation landed him squarely in the chaotic landscape of American comics, and he wasn't alone. An Xenomorph creature, silent and ever-present, became his unlikely shadow. With a bold declaration that hinted at the scale of his ambition, Enzer announced, "Let's set a small initial goal: I intend to architect a universe teeming with Xenomorphs!" And so, across the infinite iterations of the Marvel multiverse, his plan began to unfold: The telltale screech of repulsor jets heralded Iron Man's descent, anti-Xenomorph armor blazing. "Enzer," he grit, plummeting towards the earth, "this ends now." In a somber echo from a reshaped future, Wolverine, his adamantium claws glinting, lamented, "Mutants were never meant to be part of your alien infestation." Conqueror Kang, a master of timelines, surveyed the silent proliferation of Xenomorph variants bearing his own face, a disquieting stillness settling over his features. The tremors of interdimensional breaches rippled into the DC multiverse, where: Superman, usually an unstoppable force, staggered back from a brutal assault by super-powered Xenomorphs. "Engage the kryptonite cannons!" he roared in desperation. Batman, a figure defined by his control, found himself grappling savagely with an Xenomorph, his grim question turning into a horrified realization. "Do you bleed? I guess not!” Light years away, Green Lantern, a beacon of cosmic order, was relentlessly pursued through the star systems by Xenomorphs wielding a grotesque assortment of Lantern Rings. "How in the hell are these things even capable of channeling the Corps' power?!" he bellowed in frustration. As Enzer orchestrated his alien army's relentless expansion across the myriad realities, daring to seize gods themselves as unwilling incubators, he finally paused, taking in the sheer scope of the unfolding pandemonium. A slow dawning of realization crossed his face. "Well," he murmured, a hint of understated alarm in his voice, "it appears things might have spiraled slightly out of control."
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