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Joining WSA 2025. #WSA2025
(Tw: contents will focus on the dark genre, exploring disturbing topics)

Every author loves their story.

Sure, you may get tired of writing it after quite a while, but even so; it was a novel you enjoyed writing before, no?

The words you put consideration to, the effort you did research overnight.

The thrill to have a reader, the thought of someone enjoyed your work.

All of it was something you used to cherish, but you may end up forgetting the joy over small things one day as you move on.

Everyone loves their work.

But some forget they did.

The Author's Playground

"Poor child…"

Once, humankind spoke a single language.

United, they dared to defy the heavens, driven by greed and an insatiable hunger for the unknown. They built a tower—one meant to pierce the skies, to ascend beyond the stars themselves.

An angel descended upon the mortal realm when word of their arrogance reached the divine.

'She' beheld the towering ambition of men, and fury burned within her veins.

With a solemn curse, 'She' unraveled their unity. Their tongues twisted, their words shattered into meaningless echoes. Where once there was order, confusion reigned after.

Confusion turned to discord.

Discord turned to war.

Lightning split the heavens, and the tower crumbled into dust.

The Tower of Babel was no more.

And the one who cast judgment upon them…

Yet, the God 'She' served did not look upon her actions with favor.

She had interfered where no angel should.

For her defiance, she was stripped of her rank, her wings torn from her back—cast away like a broken doll no longer of used

But in the wake of her ruin, one dared to reach for the discarded.

A man who did not belong to this world.

With confidence no mere mortal should possess, he stood before the fallen angel—unshaken, unafraid.

A knowing smile played on his lips.

"Can you become a pawn in my story?"

"Fate does not waver, and no soul shall outrun the coming storm."

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