Sci Fi

Behind Bars, Beyond Borders: The Struggle of the Global Sumud Flotilla
Behind Bars, Beyond Borders: The Struggle of the Global Sumud Flotilla The roar of the sea had been replaced by the clang of iron doors. For the activists of the Global Sumud Flotilla, who had set sail with nothing but hope and humanitarian aid, the sudden transition from open waves to concrete cells felt surreal. Yet, even in captivity, their mission refused to die.
By Wings of Time about a year ago in Fiction
The Echo Chamber Breaker
Kael’s world was a symphony of agreement. As a Senior Curator for the Aethel Network, his job was to fine-tune the Consensus—the seamless, personalized reality stream fed to every citizen. The AI did the heavy lifting, but Kael and his colleagues were the artists, smoothing the last rough edges, ensuring the flow of information was harmonious, positive, and affirming. Conflict, tragedy, and offensive opinions were not censored; they were merely edited for clarity and comfort. It was a perfect world, and he was one of its architects.
By Habibullahabout a year ago in Fiction
look
“Look, it can’t be any clearer.” “You always say that.” “What?” “Look. Look. Look. But there’s nothing to see.” “It’s figurative. An expression.”
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
Nightfell
The waves rolled and crested as the shorefolk slept. A clutch of trilly probed near the tideline, their fluted snouts grubbing deep in the sand, as razor gulls circled in the offshore breeze.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
Tongue of Mirror
He lived without end, and eternity was no gift. It was a sentence one that dragged him across centuries, forcing him to watch the world rise, crumble, and rise again, while he remained unchanged.
By DOMINION (GREED)about a year ago in Fiction
The Anonymous Giver
The city was a machine of concrete and indifference, and Silas was its secret repairman. By day, he was a quiet, unassuming tenant in a dusty apartment. By night, he was the Anonymous Giver.
By Habibullahabout a year ago in Fiction
Past Perfect
They let him run the world even though he’d destroyed ninety percent of it. It was the price of genius minus the cost of madness. He’d gone far past perfect, but hadn’t known when to stop.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
LMFT
It’s hard to be proud of, let alone tell anyone, that as a twelve-year-old my world opened up and I knew anything was possible when a villainous super-hero ripped open her spandex bustier and shouted, “Laser my fucking tits!”
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
Old Souls
Old Soul heard voices from far away. He sat on a rocker on his porch overlooking the small lake where fish jumped at bugs in the cool dusk of a forever evening. It’d been ages since Old Soul had heard an outsider’s voice. The sound stirred memories. His chair rocked a bit faster, and he called through the open door of the small one-room cabin where a toasty fire always burned in the stone hearth and a savory stew simmered on the nickel-plated stove.
By majokiabout a year ago in Fiction
Gemınıuıɯǝ⅁. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge. Top Story - October 2025.
Like a salve for the soul, the long twilight of Mars bears my thoughts aloft night after weary night, winging across sapphire skies. Without the science it seems a miracle. But knowing the truth as I do does not lessen my awe in the least. Great clouds of dust filter the fading light so that only the short-waved blues appear, Azure limning the horizon with Lapis above before slowly transitioning to midnight black.
By John Coxabout a year ago in Fiction
You're Life In An Anthro's World
The two officers that Deluma had brought with her charged into the house. They first entered the living room where they found an unexpected scene unfolding in front of them.
By Dom Wardenabout a year ago in Fiction
Your Life In An Anthro's World
For a while, no one said anything. They just sat there, staring at you. The silence stretched on, becoming unnervingly long and awkward. Finally, the lion spoke. You couldn’t get over his sheer size—he was all muscle, wrapped in denim jeans and a red t-shirt.
By Dom Wardenabout a year ago in Fiction