Sci Fi

A Soldier's Homecoming. Content Warning.
Ever since the United Nations Supreme Senate passed the "Trans-Human Equality Act of 2047", the social and political landscape had forever become immensely altered. A.I. had successfully integrated with mankind's biological domain, using the bio-net-link technology first championed by Elyon Industries, following their prolific contract with the New Earth Defense Ministry. What resulted from the implementation of this break-through advancement in the technology arts, could be observed in the overwhelming majority of police and military functions that had become occupied by those referred to as "The Links"... of which; I was one.
By mark-alan; tislandabout a year ago in Fiction
The Echo in My Veins
Aris Thorne’s favorite sales tactic was fear. “Feel that anxiety in your chest, Mr. Reynolds?” she whispered, her neural implant syncing with the client’s emotions. “That’s your competitors’ ambition… But our security AI can make it stop.”
By Habibullahabout a year ago in Fiction
Echoes in the Circuitry
Chapter One: The Signal Awakens The silence of deep space had its own voice—a hum, a pressure, a presence. Lieutenant Mara Voss had grown used to it over the years. Out on the edge of the Vega Expanse, where light itself seemed reluctant to travel, silence became a companion.
By Martin Swanabout a year ago in Fiction
Blue Eyes
"You don’t even know them," Jaymie said, voice tight, juice untouched. Scowling, Harry reached for the butter . "I don’t need to. I don't like that sort of thing, I never have. You know that. Some things should stay… traditional." Jaymie scoffed. "You’re being ridiculous." Harry was long past the age when he blushed easily, either from embarrassment or anger. Still, the tops of his ears gave him away. He was stung, but he wasn't backing down. "How are you going to give me grandchildren, that's what I'd like to know," he grumbled. "I don't owe you grandchildren," Jaymie bristled. "Okay, that's fair," Harry forced himself to speak softly, caging his temper behind tired teeth, but it just made him sound all the angrier. "It's all very well, this lifestyle-" "It's not a lifestyle, Dad, we can't help who we love!" "Yes! Yes you can! That's the point! Grass grows where it's watered, as well you should know, or have I taught you nothing?" He glared, and then sighed, pulling a hand down over his craggy face. It made him look like a Basset Hound. "You’re just too young to see it clearly." “I’m not. We've talked every day for a year. Lyric knows me better than anyone ever has.” "Pfft. Talking. Knowing. That's not love." "Then what is? I love Lyric. I know I do. They-" "They." Harry snorted. "That's ridiculous." Jaymie's ears were just as rosy. "You're just a...a... a dinosaur! You don't understand. Or... or maybe," Recklessness took over now, "Maybe you do get it. Maybe you know my generation will bury yours, and you resent us for it. The world is changing, Dad! It belongs to us! Get with it, or get left behind!" Harry put his knife down, slow and deliberate. "I will not be steam-rollered into agreeing with this... this new-age nonsense. It's wrong. It's amoral. Love should be between..." Eyes rolling, Jaymie stood, chair scraping on the kitchen tiles. "Yeah, yeah, a man and a woman, we get it, dad." "Between two people," Harry countered, his voice rising despite himself.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
The Chronos Anomaly
The first signs were dismissed as mass hysteria, a collective delusion born from the relentless churn of the 21st century. People reported déjà vu so intense it felt like a rerun, moments stretching into an eternity, or skipping entirely. Clocks, once the unwavering heartbeat of civilization, began to falter. Digital displays flickered erratically, their glowing numbers dancing a chaotic jig, while the hands of analog timepieces spun backward with an unnerving, almost deliberate grace, before lurching forward to times that simply hadn't happened yet.
By Habibullah. Shoukat Aliabout a year ago in Fiction
A Night of 100 Stars
The old observatory perched atop Hollow Ridge had been abandoned for years. Its dusty domes and silent telescopes were relics of a forgotten age, standing as a solemn witness to the universe’s vast mysteries. Few dared to venture there after sunset, but tonight was different. Clara’s car had sputtered and died just a mile from the ridge. She cursed under her breath, pulling out her phone only to find a blinking “No Signal.” The sky was a canvas of black velvet, dotted with countless stars, promising the meteor shower forecasted for months. She glanced up, the first streak of a shooting star slicing across the sky like a fleeting whisper.
By Muhammadabout a year ago in Fiction
The Memory Market
In the neon-glow underbelly of New Avalon City, where hovercars hummed above cracked streets and holograms danced on metallic walls, memories had become the new currency. Not gold, not crypto—memories.
By Muhammadabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Monkey of Emberwood
The sun cast golden shafts of light through the tangled canopy of Emberwood, where ancient trees whispered secrets to the wind. Few dared venture deep into the forest, and those who did rarely returned with the same light in their eyes. Emberwood had earned its reputation—not for beasts or bandits, but for something older, something no one could explain. Legends told of a time when the forest teemed with mystical creatures, guardians of balance between man and nature. Chief among them was the red-crowned monkey, said to possess the wisdom of the old world and the power to summon the spirits of the forest. But they vanished centuries ago, or so the world believed. Until now. --- Twelve-year-old Maya stood at the forest’s edge, gripping the leather strap of her satchel. Her father had disappeared into Emberwood six months ago, chasing tales of ancient relics and forgotten creatures. He never returned. The local villagers had warned her, begged her not to follow. But Maya had found his journal—its final pages scribbled with strange symbols, maps, and one repeated phrase: “The Last Monkey watches the heart.” With trembling fingers and fire in her chest, Maya stepped past the last fence post and into the emerald gloom. --- The deeper she went, the quieter the world became. Birds did not sing here. Insects did not buzz. Even her breath seemed to fade into the silence. Strange markings appeared on trees—swirls and glyphs that pulsed faintly when touched. She followed the map, the landmarks lining up one by one: the twin rocks, the river that flowed uphill, the hollow tree humming with energy. After hours of trekking, she reached a wide clearing bathed in sunlight. In the center stood a stone totem, moss-covered and broken. At its base sat something… watching her. It was a monkey—small, with deep brown fur and a brilliant crimson patch on its forehead. Its golden eyes locked onto hers, intelligent and calm. "You…" Maya whispered. "You're real." The monkey tilted its head and dropped from the totem. It didn't run. Instead, it walked toward her on all fours, stopping inches away. Slowly, it reached out and touched her satchel. Inside was her father’s journal. She opened it and showed him the last page. The monkey tapped one symbol—an eye inside a leaf. Maya understood. This was the "Heart of Emberwood," the place her father had written about. But why had he come here? And where was he now? The monkey gestured for her to follow. --- For the next two days, they traveled together. The monkey—whom Maya began calling Ember—led her through forgotten temples and glowing caves, across vines that sang when touched, and to pools that shimmered with stars in daylight. Along the way, Ember showed her carvings, visions locked in the stones: images of a time when humans and forest spirits coexisted. But something had broken the balance. A great fire. And a betrayal. The red-crowned monkeys had tried to stop it, but only one remained. That one now stood beside her. At the mouth of a great cavern, Ember hesitated. The entrance was sealed with a large stone covered in hand-shaped indentations. Maya placed her palm on one. A heartbeat echoed beneath the stone. With a deep groan, the stone door slid open. Inside, vines glowed softly, illuminating what seemed to be a sanctuary—an ancient hall with curved walls and high domes. At its center was a crystal tree, long dead, wrapped in black roots that pulsed with dark energy. Ember shrank back, trembling. Suddenly, from the shadows, a figure stepped forward. Maya gasped. “Dad?” But the man who emerged looked… changed. His eyes were too dark. His skin carried faint markings, like the symbols in the forest. "I found it, Maya,” he said slowly. “The Heart. It speaks. It grants knowledge beyond time.” “You’re scaring me,” she said. He raised his hands. “I did it for us. For mankind. The monkey—he wants to keep this power hidden. He’s afraid.” Maya looked at Ember, who stood firm but sorrowful. “The forest isn’t a weapon,” she said. “It’s alive. You wanted to protect it once. Remember?” Her father hesitated. Then the black roots pulsed. His expression twisted. “The Heart belongs to all,” he growled. The ground trembled. The roots lashed out. Ember leapt forward, placing himself between Maya and the dark energy. His crimson mark glowed bright—brighter than the cavern, than the crystals, than the sun itself. The roots screamed. From Ember’s chest, light exploded—pure, green, and wild. It surged through the room, into the walls, up the dead tree. The blackness hissed and cracked, recoiling like a shadow at dawn. Maya’s father collapsed, unconscious but breathing. The crystal tree bloomed—petals of light unfurling into the air, casting illusions of monkeys past, leaping and dancing across the domes. The sanctuary breathed again. Ember turned to her, tired but smiling. "You saved it," Maya whispered, kneeling beside him. But Ember was fading—his form flickering like the last flame of a candle. The light had taken its toll. “No,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Don’t go.” He reached up, pressing his small hand to her chest. Then he was gone. --- The villagers gasped when Maya returned—alive, her father weak but safe. They listened in silence as she told them what had happened. Some scoffed. Others wept. But weeks later, the forest began to change. The rivers ran clearer. Birds returned. Trees bloomed out of season. And sometimes, in the corner of an eye, a small monkey with a red crown could be seen watching from the branches. A legend had been reborn. And Emberwood had a guardian once more—not of fur and bone, but of spirit, memory, and hope. ---
By Habibullah. Shoukat Aliabout a year ago in Fiction
Greek Mythology
1. THE COSMIC ORIGINS OF TARTAROS 1.1. The First Powers from Chaos According to Hesiod's Theogonia, one of the main sources of ancient Greek mythology , everything started with Chaos at the beginning of the universe. Chaos refers to an infinite and formless void in which order, form, and meaning do not yet exist. This "first" being or state is the starting point of the basic building blocks of the universe. Among the first beings to come after Chaos are Gaia (Earth), Tartaros (Depth), Eros (Love), Nyx (Night), and Erebus (Darkness). These beings are not gods or goddesses in the classical sense, but are direct cosmic forces. That is, they are the first energy fields that determine the functioning of the universe.
By Remzi Kazdalabout a year ago in Fiction
The Art of Creating Fiction That Feels Real
Have you ever read a novel so vivid it felt as if you could step right into its world? Or met a character in a short story who seemed more alive than some people you know in real life? That’s the power of fiction that feels real. Many aspiring writers think great fiction is only about having a wild imagination. But the secret isn’t about dreaming up the most far-fetched plots. It’s about grounding those ideas in details that make your reader believe every word—even if your story is set on another planet or in a time that never existed. Here’s how to craft fiction that captivates from the first sentence and leaves a lasting impact long after the last page is turned. --- 1. Start With a Strong “What If?” All unforgettable fiction begins with a question that sparks curiosity. Think about the novels you love. They probably have a premise that makes you lean in. Examples: What if a young wizard didn’t know he was magical until he turned eleven? What if memories could be bought and sold like commodities? What if a tiny town harbored an ancient secret that could destroy the world? A great “what if” doesn’t have to be complicated. It just needs to create a sense of wonder or tension. Before you start writing, jot down several possibilities. Ask yourself which idea you can’t stop thinking about. That’s usually the one worth exploring. --- 2. Build a World With Rules Even if you’re writing about an imaginary place, your world needs rules. Readers are willing to suspend disbelief—but only if the story follows a logic they can grasp. Ask yourself: What is daily life like here? What do people eat, wear, and fear? What customs or taboos shape their choices? Consistency is everything. If magic exists, decide who can wield it, how it works, and what it costs. If your story is set in the future, consider how technology has changed relationships, politics, or the environment. Remember: Details make the impossible feel probable. --- 3. Create Characters With Conflicting Desires One of the biggest mistakes new fiction writers make is creating characters who feel flat. They might have a goal—but no internal conflicts. But in real life, people are full of contradictions: You can love someone and resent them at the same time. You can crave adventure but fear failure. You can dream of success yet sabotage yourself out of insecurity. Give your characters at least two conflicting desires. This tension drives the story forward and makes readers root for them. Ask: What does this character want more than anything? What are they afraid will happen if they fail? What secret are they hiding? --- 4. Show, Don’t Tell This classic advice never gets old because it works. Instead of telling your reader “John was angry,” show it: John’s jaw tightened. He slammed the car door so hard the window rattled. The more sensory details you use—sights, sounds, textures—the more immersive your story becomes. When readers can picture every scene, they stop feeling like spectators and start experiencing the world through your characters’ eyes. --- 5. Let Your Characters Fail Perfect characters are boring. Readers connect with vulnerability and imperfection. Don’t protect your characters from mistakes. Let them fail, embarrass themselves, and make bad decisions. Failure not only builds empathy but also sets up moments of growth and redemption. This is where your story’s emotional power comes from. --- 6. End With Resonance A good ending doesn’t have to be a happy one—but it should feel earned. Ask yourself: Has the character changed in a meaningful way? Have their choices led to a believable outcome? What question or feeling do I want to leave in the reader’s mind? An unresolved thread can be powerful if it invites reflection rather than frustration. --- Final Thoughts Fiction is a bridge between imagination and truth. When you write stories that feel real, you give readers the gift of seeing themselves—and the world—differently. Remember: You don’t need to be a literary genius to create something beautiful. You just need to be curious, observant, and willing to put your heart on the page. So the next time an idea tugs at your imagination, don’t dismiss it as silly or impossible. Write it down. Give it shape. Let it breathe. Because somewhere out there, a reader is waiting for a story that only you can tell. And when you write fiction that feels alive, you’ll discover that you, too, become more alive in the process.
By Kim Jonabout a year ago in Fiction
Journey to the Center of the Galaxy
The distance from Quadrant 99 to Quadrant 1 (and the presidential palace and grounds) was considerably far. Kevin and Sillan continued onwards on their hover-bikes. The chaos at the DNA Records Office hadn't died down one bit. They made a quick exit.
By Po Iveyabout a year ago in Fiction
Greek Mythology
Chaos in Greek Mythology: The Birth of Order from Cosmic Void Introduction: The Gates of the Mythological Universe Ancient Greek mythology is not only the world of gods, heroes, and monsters. It also offers a profound cosmological narrative about the origin of the universe, time, and order. At the very beginning of these narratives, there is a being that existed before everything else: Chaos. But who is Chaos? Or, more accurately: What is Chaos?
By Remzi Kazdalabout a year ago in Fiction