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... m, a sentiment of profound liberation spread through his muscles.


Alchemo had fashioned the courier a throne of metal and cables within the depths of Mechron’s submarine, linked to six helmets and special chairs for the would-be time-travelers. Everyone was busy preparing for the procedure. Felix bade goodbye to his sisters, all of them crying; Livia memorized everyone’s freshly recorded brain-maps, from Sunshine’s to Narcinia’s; Mr. Wave and his sidekick the Living Sun prepped Shroud ...

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Cut through the road of life and death with one knife, and Hanren slaughtered all those who had hearts!

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I was just your average burnout. Now I’m a kobold in a dungeon where everything wants to eat me—and frankly, I get it. I look delicious.Reincarnated as the weakest possible monster in the worst possible place, I start with nothing but panic, backward knees, and a skill called Civilization Mimicry—which is sealed. Because of course it is.But survival isn't the story.This is the story of what comes after.Of finding meaning in the scraps. Of building law from ashes. Of kindling memory in a place designed to erase.Because even if the world sees kobolds as nothing, I’ve seen what we used to be.And I’m going to bring it back.Firelight by firelight. Burial by burial. One fragile tradition at a time.Because if the world wants kobolds to be nothing?Then I’ll teach it what nothing becomes when it learns to dream.

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