Unbound - Chapter Nine Hundred And Seventeen – 917

I became the villain in the story of a hero.

So I was about to quit after fighting the main character.

But she’s obsessed with me. Why…?

Cillian Carter crossed into another world, a place where everyone is given the chance to become a god.In this world, people design their own personal Domain of Divinity.Some build peaceful fairy realms, filled with light and music.Others shape mighty dragon sanctuaries, or chaotic worlds of ancient magic and war.But Cillian built something different.The Endless Abyss.A world cold, brutal, and hostile to life itself.A place where the ground bleeds, the air burns, and survival is a daily struggle.No peace. No safety. No rules.Welcome to the Endless abyss

Sebastian’s life was defined by loss. Orphaned, abandoned, and beaten down by a world that seemed determined to crush him, he met his end alone on the streets, broken by poverty, sickness, and heartbreak. Yet death was not the end.He awakens in a void between worlds, confronted by a strange, otherworldly presence and a mysterious statue that hints at power beyond mortal comprehension. There, Sebastian burns and is reforged as Sebastian Nekros, an extra in the world of “The Celestial Arena.”Thrown back into the living world, Sebastian must navigate a realm where morality is relative and every choice carries weight. As he experiments with his abilities, he encounters allies, rivals, and enemies who test not only his strength but his understanding of what it means to wield life and death. With the line between salvation and annihilation growing thinner by the day, Sebastian faces a choice that will determine the fate of the world itself: embrace his powers fully and reshape existence in his image, or sacrifice everything to restore balance and prove that even the most broken soul can leave a mark on eternity.discord invite--- https://discord.gg/RYm8kCzKyh

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”